Surviving Our Extinction
by KevinJames92
Summary: A reimagining of The Walking Dead from the very beginning. As Rick wakes up from a coma and makes his way out of the hospital, he is unaware of a small group of survivors who have spotted him and have decided to attempt to help. How will their presence affect the actions of Rick and Morgan and what influences will they have on the characters and the story moving forward.
1. Chapter 1

***Disclaimer...I do not own The Walking Dead or any of its characters. I only own the five characters not from the show.(Rob, Sara, Preston, Jack, and MJ)**

 **Surviving Our Extinction**

Chapter One

His eyelids were barely open. All he could make out through his wavering consciousness and the sound of his own labored breathing was a familiar face. A man, his friend, who had always been at his side. He was there when it had happened and he was there now.

Listening to the beeping of the hospital equipment he focused on his thoughts. He remembered now as his consciousness continued to drift in and out from his position in the hospital bed. He remembered the call they had received on their radio. He could recall setting up the spike strip and positioning themselves on the side of the road in wait.

Then, the crash. The two suspects exiting the car ready to go down with nothing less than a fight. The third man who they hadn't known about – who they hadn't seen exiting the car – firing his weapon. The pain that struck him was so intense as he fell to the ground that he drifted out of consciousness while listening to the comforting voice of his friend, who was there with him again.

He worked his eyes slightly open again at the sound of his friend's voice. His vision was blurry and even though he didn't have the strength to keep them open for very long, he tried.

The man with thick, dark curls settled on the top of his head leaned in close with a bouquet of flowers gripped in his hand. "Hey, bud. We're still here. We're still hanging in." He breathed in deeply, shaking his head as he backed up, off of the bed. "I'm sorry, man...same crap every time I'm here."

Lying there, listening, Rick wanted to speak. He wanted to tell his best friend how much he appreciated him visiting. As far as Rick could recall, Shane was the only one to visit him for however long he'd been in there.

A few days? A few weeks? He couldn't tell.

He knew he'd probably missed anyone else coming in. He'd been unconscious for the most part of his hospital stay. Rarely was he awake this long. But aside from Lori, maybe even more than Lori, Shane had been the one constant in his life. The one person he could count on to have his back no matter what.

Rick's eyes shut again as he drifted off. He heard bits and pieces of whatever Shane was telling him. Something about the flowers he had brought and who had sent them. He heard in a mumbled voice that they'd be on his table beside his bed.

But then, Rick's eyes were open. For the first time since he had taken a bullet he could see clearly. He coughed. His mouth was so dry; full of that awful taste people have when they first wake up, but it seemed to be much more intense than he ever remembered. As his slight coughing fit moved him in his bed, he felt the strong ache in his side where the bullet had hit him. He needed water.

"Shane?" Rick struggled to speak. All he had been doing for however long he was in the hospital for was lying down, resting. The fact that he was barely able to get his friend's name out was incredible to him.

He waited, but there was no response. "Shane? You in the john?" Rick spoke again, but still received no answer. He coughed again feeling the pain in his side.

 _Where'd he go?_ Rick turned his head and immediately found himself looking at the flowers that Shane had brought in to him.

He stared at them for a minute and in that single minute several things occurred to him.

The room was silent. No beeping was coming from any of the equipment in the room. The lights were off with only the light from outside filtering in through some of the blinds over the windows. Then, the thing that really caused Rick's heart to skip a beat with the onset of panic was the fact that the flowers that Shane had just brought in were already dead. Pedals littered the top of the table around the vase.

Rick swallowed hard, his throat sticking to itself as he did from the lack of saliva in his mouth. He continued to stare at that bouquet, reaching a hand out toward it. His fingers reached a single flower at which he rubbed between two fingers. It was completely dry, crumbling as it fell to the table, meaning that his assumption of time was off. It had to have been at least a few days since Shane had been here.

Rick realized that he must have fallen back into unconsciousness at that point and had just woken up again now.

His heart began to race as he blinked furiously at the ceiling. He looked around and saw that all of the equipment was shut off. His head turned to the left, slowing down as his eyes met the clock.

It showed 2:16 in the afternoon. But it wasn't working. It had stopped.

Looking away he grabbed at the oxygen tube around his face and pulled it off. He pushed himself onto his side, his healing wound causing him such intense pain as he pushed his way into a seated position on the edge of his bed. Aside from his wound his whole body was still and aching due to the fact that he had been lying in the same position for what had likely been weeks now.

He reached out, careful not to pull or tangle any of the other wires attached to him, and gripped the IV stand at the side of his bed. Mustering all of his strength he pushed up and off of the bed, his hand still holding onto the stand as his legs began to shake. Before fully standing, he had collapsed onto the floor, pulling the IV stand with him and disconnecting any wires still attached.

Turning over on his side, gasping for air and struggling not to choke from the dryness of his throat, he called out. "Nurse, help." He waited for a second before calling out again. "Nurse! Help!"

Just like when he called out for Shane, he received no response this time either.

 _Where is everyone? What's happened? How are there no people here to help!_

He managed to pull himself up to his feet. Pushing past the pain that engulfed-what felt like-his entire body, he stumbled across the floor to the bathroom, threw open the door and fell into the sink. He lowered his head, pooling the water-which he was thankful was still running-into his hand and drinking what seemed like gallons to him.

Lifting his head up he stared into the mirror. His beard. A full beard had grown on his face, narrowing his guess at how long he had been in the hospital for. Now knowing it to be at least two – probably more – weeks since he had been shot.

Opening the door to his room, he found the doorway to have been blocked by a hospital bed. Without thinking of why, he pushed it aside and stepped out into the hallway.

The lights flickered throughout half of the hallway, while the other half that he stood in had no working lights. The doors were thrown open and papers were scattered across the floor. Aside from the debris and several chairs that had been knocked onto their sides, the hospital looked pretty normal. Clearly the people had left in a hurry at some point. But why?

Had they forgotten to help the patients or was it just Rick who was still in the building? He peered into two of the rooms that were near him. The scenes were similar to his room when he had woken up. He even peered up at one of the clocks and found it to be stopped at the same time as his had been.

 _What happened here at 2:16?_

Rick didn't understand what was going on? What had happened that caused everyone to leave...and in such a hurry? Why was he still here? Alone.

He squinted down the hallway, spotting the information desk not far from where he was. He shuffled past the open doors, pushing aside the trash and papers on the floor as he went. His arm reached out over the top of the desk and he clumsily pushed aside several useless items. Paperweights, cups of office supplies, more papers...that wasn't what he was looking for.

With the lights overhead and nearby out, the small area that was home to the information desk was drenched in darkness. Luckily, his hand passed over something. A small square paper, but thicker than most. He lifted it up and stared at it.

A matchbook.

Opening it in his hand he pulled off a single match and struck it. They worked.

Now he could see, although small areas and for only several seconds, but if he needed to light up an area to move through it, he was able to do that with the matches.

He knew he had to find someone. Get help, find out what was going on, even get some clothes if he could. He couldn't be walking around in his underwear. People would think he was crazy or something.

He turned around and tried to figure out which way to go. He had rarely been in the hospital for any reason in recent years, and he couldn't remember anything for the life of him when he had arrived here, so he had no idea what the layout of the building was. Which way would get him out.

The room turned off into another hallway and with the light still working there – flickering, but not out – he figured to head in that direction.

He held his hand up to shield his still sensitive eyes from the bright light overhead. Moving forward he realized there was a door in front of him which lead into the hallway. His feet brushed against the floor as he moved up against the door's windows. His hand fell as he squinted harder into the hallway in front of him.

He could see something in the hallway, lying out on the floor. He couldn't quite tell what it was though. But after blinking several times his eyes adjusted and that's when he noticed the blood on the floor. He had seen enough blood in his days as a cop to know that what he was looking at on the floor was exactly that. But as to what the object was on the ground, surrounded by the blood stains, he still wasn't sure.

Slowly his eyes opened as they took in the image. His breathing slowed and his heart began to race again. He didn't want to believe that was he was seeing was real.

What he saw truly terrified him unlike anything else he had ever seen in his life. A human body. A nurse. But her body, that he could clearly make out now, was not how it should have been.

The blood belonged to her. Her torso was one gaping hole of rot. Her insides, her guts, falling over the sides of her corpse. Something had torn her apart and left her there to remain a sight to be seen for anyone unlucky enough to walk through the area.

So many things went through Rick's mind at that point. What had happened and why. Was he in danger since he was still inside the hospital? Clearly everyone had left and this must've had something to do with why. Did the law enforcement know about this? But most importantly, he had to get out.

Turning around he continued down the opposite hallway. His palms sweating, his breathing increasing in speed, the pain in his body not nearly as noticeable as he started to worry about his safety and getting out.

This hallway had been torn apart. The ceiling was caved in, allowing the wires to hang down from overhead. The walls around him were riddled with bullet holes. Blood was splattered everywhere across the walls as well as sitting in small pools that had formed at the base of the walls. Rick stared at the destruction as he walked along, ducking under the exposed wires and continuing past them, trying his best not to focus too much on the blood surrounding him or the nurse's corpse that he had already seen. He made his way closer to the double doors at the other end of the hallway and slowly approached them. The words _Don't Open, Dead Inside_ were spray-painted on them in black lettering. A wooden board was fastened underneath the door handles, helped by the thick chain that was wrapped between the handles as well with a padlock holding everything in place.

He hadn't noticed the paint or the restraints on the doors until he had approached them. But there was another thing that he hadn't noticed, or better put, he hadn't felt. After Rick had left the previous set of double doors, he hadn't realized that multiple sets of living eyes, too scared and too watchful to alert him to their presence, were focused on him as he continued down the hallway.

Five pairs of eyes looking out from behind those doors that he hadn't seen, all curious as to why he was in there. One of those sets of eyes was much more curious than the rest, practically refusing to look away from Rick's back.

"Rob!" The woman behind him hissed. "Maybe he knows where we can find medicine."

"Ya think he would?" Another voice, this one a man's. His strained voice hurting with the pain in his leg.

"It's possible. Maybe he came here. Why else would he be in the hospital at this point. It's been a month since this all happened." Another voice, another man, but a younger one. He held a boy close to him, his arm around the boy's shoulder, keeping him at his side.

Rob, the makeshift leader of this tired, worn out group turned back around. "I doubt he came here. He's in a hospital gown, and he's holding his side like he's hurt."

The others around him just exchanged looks with each other realizing Rob was likely right.

"So why would he be here then?" The younger man asked.

"I don't know...but his face...when he saw this nurse here," Rob pointed to the corpse of a nurse who had been torn open, lying on the floor behind them. "He doesn't seem to know what's going on."

Confused expressions met Rob's stare.

Rob thought for a second before he continued, looking back at the man down the next hallway, who now was stumbling backward away from the door and falling to the ground in terror. The door that was now shaking, trying to break open. He watched, as did the others, as the man forced himself to his feet and made his way down another hallway, anxious to get away from what he was seeing.

"Come on, we gotta help him." Rob said as he turned around, putting his knife back in its sheath at his waist. "I think he's going toward the staircase that leads outside."

"Rob, wait!" The woman pushed out a whisper. Rob turned and met her annoyed stare. She tilted her head to the others.

His eyes followed her head's motion and looked upon the other three people in their group. "Preston, you good to keep walking?"

Preston, the older man who was fighting an injury to his leg sustained not two days earlier nodded slowly and looked up at Rob. "I think so. Yeah."

Rob nodded. He looked to the younger man and the boy at his side. "Jack, you and MJ here good?"

The boy, who's nickname was abbreviated as MJ, exchanged looks with the younger man, Jack. Jack gave the boy a soft, small smile and then returned his eyes to Rob, nodding a "yes" to the man.

Rob nodded back, giving MJ a smile. "Good. Okay."

He turned around again. "Sara?"

The woman held his stare for a moment, then looking to the ground shook her head. She looked to her side at the other three. "We need medicine Rob. And we need to find a place to stay before dark."

Rob held her stare and smiled lightly. "And we will...we'll find a place and we'll find medicine. But I can't let this guy run outside to his death if he doesn't know what's going on either."

Sara sighed and lifted her hand, rubbing it against her forehead. "Alright...lead the way then."

They held each other's stare for a moment until Rob nodded again, moving toward the next hallway to their left. "Alright, come on. This way."

But before they took more then a few steps they heard the telltale noises of the dead closing in.

Stuck in the intersection of the hallways, they couldn't go through the door they were looking through as it was locked, but they couldn't go back the way they came either.

The groaning grew louder and the smell began to engulf them as they stood there waiting.

"Shit." Preston hissed as he leaned against the nearest wall.

"Which way, Rob?" Sara's voice was riddled with nerves and fear, anxious to get out of the hallway and to somewhere safe.

Rob tensed his jaw and thought to himself. _Not again._ They had already been running for almost 2 days, since Preston's leg got hurt. The rest of the people they had been with were dead, overrun by a large group of the dead. They were lucky to have escaped.

"Rob..." Sara called out again. The urgency in her voice growing stronger and interrupting his thoughts.

"We gotta go back the way we came." Jack said. He held the younger MJ close to his side. The boy stared down the hallway, looking to where they were planning to run just moments earlier. The boy's breathing grew faster; his eyes holding wide open.

Rob saw what MJ's eyes had caught on to at the same time the boy had. Shadows on the far wall moving in their direction. It was time to go.

Rob thought to himself at that moment as his eyes met the terrified look on MJ's face.

 _Only one option._

"Follow me guys. Come on, this way!" Rob waved them on behind him, leading them down the only other hallway. It led in the opposite direction from the door they were at, watching the hospital man through, but it still could very well lead around to another exit. He'd find one. He had to find that man, but more importantly, he couldn't let anyone else die. Not here, not now.

If he could have it his way, he wouldn't let that happen ever.

 **** Author's Note -** Thank you to everyone who reads this. Huge fan of The Walking Dead here so I wanted to write my own take on the story(to some degree) which includes several characters of my own creation.

The question that's always in my head after watching every scene, no matter how small, is how could that have played out differently and if it did how would that affect the rest of the story moving forward. What else would have been different after that? So I'm hoping to explore that question in writing this re imagining of the story.

Feel free to comment/like/favorite if you like it. If you didn't enjoy it for any reason, let me know too(as long as you're nice enough about it)!

I'm writing this on my own time and if people enjoy it and want to keep reading it I'll upload more. Until then, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy the story!


	2. Chapter 2

***Disclaimer...I do not own The Walking Dead or any of its characters. I only own the five characters not from the show.(Rob, Sara, Preston, Jack, and MJ)**

 **Surviving Our Extinction**

Chapter 2

Their footsteps echoed through the empty hallway as they rushed to gain some distance in order for them to see if there was another way out in this direction. Rob led the group of five as they searched for an exit sign or staircase, something to lead them out of the hospital and to get them away from the large group of dead ones that would eventually catch up to them.

Arriving at the end of the hallway, Rob came to a stop. The others coming up behind him, looking to the left and to the right, tried to figure out for themselves which way was best.

The left would take them back around toward the exit they were originally heading to before they had to change their path after becoming aware of the deads' presence. The right, on the other hand, would be safer, but would take longer as they'd have to search for another exit, hoping not to find too many areas to be closed off, and the fact that it would take even longer to get out that way made the idea of going to the right unattractive to all of them.

"They're following us back there, right?" Jack asked.

The others looked at him, unsure of what exactly he was asking about and waited for him to continue.

"I think its safe to say so," Preston answered with a bit of sarcasm in his voice. He leaned against the wall again, giving his leg a much needed rest as he held his arm out in the direction they had just come from. The groaning sounds could be heard growing in volume. "What is it that you're asking though?"

"I doubt any of them," Jack paused rethinking his words. "Many of them, if any, are gonna be down farther that way." He looked from Preston to Rob and Sara, still holding onto MJ tightly with his free hand held out to the left. "My point being if we go left here there probably won't be many of them down that way anyway. We'll be able to circle around back to the exit we were heading to before and we shouldn't end up being cut off or overwhelmed by those things."

Rob thought over Jack's point. He stared at the ground, his hands at his hips as he thought. "He's likely right."

Sara's head turned toward him. Her brows furrowed in uncertainty. "You sure about this?"

Rob looked to her and then to the others in their group before meeting Jack's eyes. "You're probably right." He held his arm out down the hall that they had just come through. The groans were still growing louder, the shadows of the corpses not yet appearing on the walls, but the smell had already begun to seep into their nostrils. "Preston was right too...they're following us this way. We can still get to the exit."

"Rob..." Sara stepped in front of him and pressed her eyes into his. "Are you sure?" She asked firmly, her head tilting forward.

Rob held her stare, his eyes giving her his answer, but understanding her concern. He put a hand to her shoulder and then moved to step around her. "Preston, stay here with Jack and MJ." He instructed.

Rob knew Sara was also right. Better to check as best they could first to make sure it would be doable. They didn't need to become trapped on both sides. If that happened they'd be dead.

Preston's eyes widened as he pushed himself away from the wall. "Wait...whoa whoa whoa...what're you doing?"

"It's okay." Rob held his hands out in front of him, his palms facing Preston. "Me and Sara are gonna run down there and see if that exit is doable."

"It's a good idea." Sara added as Rob worked to keep Preston calm. She looked to Jack and MJ and produced a smile to the boy. "We'll know for sure this way if the exit is clear. Better not to risk getting stuck or trapped." She placed a hand on MJ's shoulder as she smiled at him. She looked up at Jack, holding her smile in place. "Right?"

Jack tilted his head in thought and then nodded to Sara.

Preston looked from her to Rob. "You best hurry up then. Those things'll be here in a few minutes...we don't have much time here." The nervousness in his face and his eyes was very obvious despite his voice sounding just as strong as usual.

"We'll be right back then. Stay here." Rob bounced from foot to foot before turning and jogging down the hallway with Sara at his side.

The two of them moved through the hallway at a quick pace, the other three members of their group growing farther away behind them. Rob and Sara were well aware that time was not on their side here. It wouldn't be long before that group of dead ones caught up to where they had stopped – where they had left Preston with his bad leg, Jack, and MJ – and would cause the situation to grow much more severe and much more urgent. To put it simply, that wouldn't end up being good for any of them.

Most of the lights in this hallway were out, casting a darkness over the pair as they moved further along. Only a few bulbs barely flickering, producing a slight strobe light effect.

With all of the bullet holes and blood splattered along the walls, and combining that with the lighting effect, Rob couldn't help but allow his mind to conjure up thoughts about some sort of horror funhouse that he might've visited as a child for Halloween.

He had never liked that kind of attraction. He didn't quite understand it – where people would jump out to try and scare you – or give you a heart attack – for fun. It had never been fun. Not for him. Maybe if doctors were the one's doing it with their patients being the visitors, trying to cause some sort health problem for them with a scare. Maybe then it would be fun, but just for those doctors that were cruel enough to do something like that in order to make more money on more patients. He was sure some doctors were that cruel – that messed up – in the world, and especially in this new one.

Looking at the world now, though, he knew those horror houses from his childhood were nothing in comparison. Now he had to live in one that was a hundred times worse. He had to push through it everyday because everyday was another fight just to survive until the next day came. Just looking around him at the hospital, the blood-covered walls, the trash filling up the hallway...the piles of unrecognizable human remains strewn out across the floor; he couldn't think of a better looking place to visit for Halloween, and honestly the view made him sick.

The one thing he was glad about though? There were no clowns like there were in those houses from his childhood. None. And he was incredibly thankful for that.

When this whole end-of-the-world situation had begun he secretly had been waiting for some of those petrifying clowns – at least they were to him – to start running around the streets, moving through the walking corpses to chase scared children. Children who were already running away from the monsters roaming through their streets without having to worry about the damn clowns. Because that was what Rob thought clowns were like. To him they were just assholes.

There were a lot of things he disliked, even hated. He despised those funhouses, but those clowns...

"Fuckin' clowns..." He muttered to himself under his breath, unknowingly loud enough to gain a confused, judging look from Sara who was still at his side.

She raised her brows and squinted her eyes as she stared at him. "You got a problem with clowns?" He paused and turned once he heard her voice. "Like, circus clowns?"

Rob stared at her for several seconds before realizing that she had heard his comment. He stared at her a moment longer before raising his eyebrows and slowly letting his eyes drift back in front of him as he began to walk through the hallway again. "Yeah." He answered without looking back at her. "Messed up creatures those things."

Sara scoffed out a bit of a laugh as she gave a quick glance to him. Her head tilting down as she tried to hide her amusement at his apparent pure hatred of clowns. "Well, ya know, Rob," she managed to look up at him without having to hide her smile. "Those _creatures_ are just people in costumes and make up. I thought _everyone_ knew that by...God, I don't know, probably by 10...11 years old."

Rob glared at her, wanting to hit her on the arm with the back of his hand for that comment. He returned his eyes forward again and thought to himself before speaking his mind. "Well, in a way...that's kinda the same as these things that we're currently trying to get away from, huh?"

Sara heard the seriousness in his voice and it caused any remnants of her smile to fade as she stared at him. She had never thought of it that way and for a moment there she agreed with him before blinking away her thoughts and shaking her head. "No, Rob. These things _were_ people." A pause as they stopped walking. She looked back to him. "Not anymore."

Rob held her stare in that moment before she finished her thought. "They're much worse." With that said, she continued walking again, gaining a step or two on him so that he was staring more at the back of her as he shuffled on his feet and moved to follow her down the hallway.

A few moments of silence followed when they were walking, thoughts running through each of their minds as to what the world had so quickly become in the past month. Rob hated how every conversation always wound up ending on a depressing or scary note, no matter how it started. He hated it and he wanted nothing more than to keep that from happening yet again.

He quickened his pace so that he came up at her side and maintained his spot there as they walked. "You mean the clowns? Yeah, believe me, I know." He joked.

Sara looked up at him, unable to keep a small smile from finding its way onto her lips. Their pace slowed a bit, but they still continued forward. As they walked she could see Rob was trying his best not to let a full smile reach his own lips from his joke. His success at ending a conversation on a positive note, but that reasoning was unknown to her.

Reaching out with her arm, she raised it and slapped the back of her hand on his arm. He flinched and pulled his arm away with his other hand; his smile now making its way onto his face from her reaction and the smile that he knew he had caused to form over her lips.

He chuckled to himself, rubbing at his arm. "Come on. We should hurry up." he said.

They continued walking, quickening their pace as they passed more bullet-riddled walls, more blood splattered across the white paint, and more remains of what were once human corpses, now torn and ripped apart beyond what anyone could ever imagine.

Rob watched the area ahead of them as they went, peeking into the rooms whose doors were left open. Sara did the same at his side, doing her best to focus on something other than the horror that was painted around them.

Rob tilted his head and looked at Sara as she scanned the area ahead. "Point is, clowns are just God-awful –"

Sara threw her arm out in front of Rob, stopping him from moving forward. "Shh!"

Following her eyeline and only having to look up ahead of them, Rob saw what Sara did. Both of them dropped down into a crouched position. They hadn't realized how far away the exit they were looking for was and were surprised to find that they had already reached the opening at the end of the hallway. The exit was right there, staring back at them. The better part – or worse part – was that the three dead ones blocking their way hadn't become aware of their presence.

As they stared at the exit and the three small problems standing between themselves and the door, Sara spoke. "It's only three of them." She exhaled. "They shouldn't be a problem. We can handle them."

"That we can." Rob answered as he studied the area around them. His eyes made their way over towards the other hallway, the one that they had been planning to use before they had to circle around after hearing the presence of the dead. "We have to anyway." He nodded his head at the door. "That's our way out."

He holstered his gun into the front of his jeans and then reached for his knife, pulling it from its sheath at his waist. He looked to Sara now, their eyes meeting. Nodding his head and motioning with his hand he indicated for her to use her knife.

"This has to be done silently." He said to her. His eyes focused on hers. Turning forward again he continued his thought. "Can't risk the noise here."

She nodded. She knew he was right. Hell, she already knew what he had just said. She also knew he was just making sure she did. He was being careful and she understood that.

Pulling her knife from its holder at her waist she stretched her neck out to the side a bit, looking down the hallway that Rob had just checked himself. "At least the rest of 'em are far enough away. Can't really get trapped now."

Rob turned to her, noticing the slight sarcasm in her voice and the tilt to her head as she spoke. He truly hoped what she just said to be right, but he knew better than to assume the best. That kind of mindset would get you killed in this world. They all had learned that to some degree by this point, and they were lucky enough to still be alive.

"Let's just take these three out...get the hell out of here." He said, motioning to the three corpses in front of the exit. "Once we get out we find that man and we find some damn medical supplies." He turned and looked at Sara. "Who knows, maybe he can help us."

As he said that last part to her he realized he was assuming the best.

 _Shit_.

Sara nodded back. "Okay." She looked forward, focusing on the three corpses shuffling around by the exit.

"By the way, you're right." Rob's voice caused Sara to look back at the man at her side. "These things _are_ worse than clowns." He chuckled slightly without allowing much of a smile to form. Looking forward at the three corpses again he finished his thought in barely a whisper. "Much worse."

Sara followed his eyes back to the dead ones in front of them.

"Clowns don't kill you." He muttered more to himself than to Sara.

Both of them took a deep breath, calming any nerves that they had to the best of their abilities.

She felt his hand tap her arm. She looked up at him as he nodded to her, silently motioning his hand at the creatures ahead. A signal that meant to move out. Like they were some kind of an army.

At that moment she couldn't help but think that in some way they were just that. An army. And this was a war. A war against the dead. They couldn't afford to lose. Not even one battle or skirmish like the one they were about to engage in. If they didn't win, they'd die, and in doing so they would lose the war.

They moved forward a few steps at a time, staying in a crouched position. They kept their eyes open for any movement from that other hallway that might mean the arrival of more dead ones. Or worse, the arrival of the group of dead ones that had chased them away from a much quicker exit from this hospital.

They did their best not to worry too much about that, but they'd be lying if they said that it had ever left their minds.

They were now closing in on the three corpses in front of them. Rob on the left, closer to the hallway that they were making sure to keep their eyes on, and Sara on the right, closer to the exit and the hallway that they had just traveled through.

Rob stayed silent, as did Sara, and signaled to her with his hand to take the one corpse closest to her; closest to the exit. He'd handle the other two.

They moved to within several feet of them. Their arms beginning to raise slightly with their hands gripped tightly onto their knives. When suddenly they heard a voice call out to them. A voice they knew. A kid's voice.

 **** Author's Note -** Thank you to everyone who reads this, and feel free to write any feedback and/or constructive criticism you may have. If you've enjoyed what you've read please comment/follow/favorite. Thanks again and I hope you enjoy this re imagining of the story!

The group will be meeting up with Rick and Morgan in the next Chapter incase anyone reading this was wondering.


	3. Chapter 3

***Disclaimer...I do not own The Walking Dead or any of its characters. I only own the five characters not from the show.(Rob, Sara, Preston, Jack, and MJ)**

 **** Author's Note -** So, I didn't realize that between where I had left off to where they meet Rick and Morgan was going to be as long as it was. Because of that, Rick still hasn't shown up again in this Chapter which is already twice as long as both of the first two. But he's coming back in the next one. That much is for sure.

 **Surviving Our Extinction**

Chapter Three

The sound of his voice surprised them more than they would've expected it to. Upon hearing it, both of them had flinched having not expected to hear anything at all in that moment other than the continuing, low sounding hiss, emanating from the dead ones' mouths as they continued to shuffle in front of the two of them.

They had been ready; focused on taking them out when the voice cut through the silence.

"Rob! Sa –" MJ immediately shut his mouth. His feet stuttered before he took a step back, his eyes widening at the scene in front of him that he hadn't realized had been taking place.

"Shit." Rob hissed through his teeth at the sound of the boy's voice. He wasn't angry at the kid, but he was worried that the dead ones had heard him. They had.

At the same time Sara had turned her head around to see MJ. He was standing their behind them, looking at them with his signature wide-eyed stare. The look that she had seen so much on him lately. They all had.

She stood there, just staring back at him.

 _Why was he there all of a sudden? Were Preston and Jack okay? Was HE okay?_

Sara had forgotten about the dead ones behind her in that moment, her thoughts about the boy's arrival pushing everything else out of her mind. Had she stayed there it wouldn't have been very long before she'd have felt the painful clamp of old, jagged teeth sinking into the flesh on her back and neck, tearing it from her body before going back in for another bite. But she had come to the realization that MJ wasn't staring in shock at her or at Rob.

Rob was still there though. He stood there, staring at the three corpses in front of him. The corpses that he had hoped hadn't been alerted by MJ's voice, that he realized now had clearly been alerted by the boy, and who now stirred and turned him and Sara, groaning and hissing at their surprise guests; their surprise meals.

Rob wasn't planning on allowing them to have their supposed meals though. Not now. Not ever.

His head turned quickly, glancing back at MJ and signaling to the boy. He held his arm out, his palm facing the boy as their eyes met and held. MJ understood Rob immediately.

 _Stay where you are._

"Sara!" Rob's voice brought her immediately back to the situation at hand. Spinning back around she saw the three corpses who were now advancing on them. The two on the left heading toward Rob. The one that she was supposed to take out moving in on her and only a few feet away at this point.

Before anything happened one thought ran through her mind. _At least these things split up the same way they had planned to take them out in. Something went as planned...in a way._

Before the corpses reached them, Rob had already jumped into action. The two heading for him were separated by a few feet; one a bit further ahead than the other due to the angle they were coming in at.

Within a split second Rob had studied them. Before he had jumped into action he knew going for one and then the other wouldn't work. Even though they were separated, they were too close together for that. Whichever one he didn't go for first would end up taking a bite out of his back as he dealt with the other.

Moving forward he decided to ram his body into the first corpse, and in doing so he had sent it falling backward a few feet. This gave him time to deal with the next one and hopefully take it out cleanly before the one on the ground came at him again.

One thing he had learned in this world when dealing with these creatures was that if you only had to deal with a few, it'd be best, if possible, to take them on carefully, one at a time.

As the second corpse stumbled forward Rob locked his gaze on it. The first corpse was now lying on the floor, trying to figure out how to get out of its current situation of being stuck on its back, giving the second corpse its chance at Rob. As it continued forward, now within an arm's length from him, the creature lunged, reaching out and trying to grab a hold of anything attached to the man standing in front of it.

As it reached for him, Rob immediately lifted his arms up in front of himself. Still holding on to his knife in one hand he gripped the creature's arms, holding it away from himself and keeping its snapping jaws at a safe distance. He struggled with it for several seconds, making sure to get a solid hold on the thing. Although, in those few seconds, Rob saw that the first corpse had managed to return itself back to its feet. He knew he had to hurry now, but he wondered if he'd be able to use this one to help take out the other one that was now making its way back toward him.

Regardless, he needed to think fast and he needed to move quickly. He knew their time here was limited. With the group of dead ones nearby, they needed to get out of the hospital and fast. That meant disposing of these two corpses first and doing it even faster. After all, he didn't plan on staring into this creature's dead, milky eyes, locked in a slow dance with it inside this decrepit hospital. He'd pass that offer up, no problem.

Thinking fast he changed his grip, moving from the corpse's wrists to just above its elbows. He could see the other corpse closing in from behind, which only made him move with more urgency. He held the corpse in place with both hands as best as he could and lifted the one gripping the knife slightly away from its arm, but still holding onto it. In one quick motion he pulled his hand away and plunged the knife at an upward angle through the thing's neck. He watched as the blade passed through the skin and muscle directly under its chin. Passing straight through, the tip emerged from the back of its neck, right above its hairline, effectively ending its undead existence.

Suddenly the weight of this thing – what had once been a middle aged man – fell onto Rob's arms. Still holding onto the knife, he used it to steer the body and propel the dead weight backward and into the first corpse that had managed to make its way over by this point. Letting its weight ram into the first corpse behind it – what once was a thin, middle aged woman – he watched them fall back together, the dead weight pinning the first corpse under the creature he had already disposed of.

Rob had still managed to hold on to his knife through all of this, allowing it to slide out of the creature's neck as it fell into the other corpse, his hand never loosening its grip on the handle. He breathed in deeply and looked down. His hands filled his vision and he saw that they were now drenched in a thick, dark red substance – the creature's blood.

He wiped his hands off on his pants and then looked up, his eyes expecting to see MJ and Sara over in the hallway, but instead only saw MJ. Sara was standing closer to him, breathing a bit heavy as she wiped her blade on her pants, having just disposed of the third corpse. A successful thrust with her knife into its temple to do the job. Its limp body lying on the floor, arms out to the side near her feet, its head resting in a growing pile of its own blood.

She looked down at the corpse pinned on the ground and then let her eyes move up to Rob.

"I got it." He said, holding his hand up to her.

She nodded before turning around and moving back toward MJ. She placed her knife back in its sheath as she walked over to him and once she had arrived at the boy's side she crouched down, her hands holding onto his arms as the two of them waited for Rob to finish up.

Rob exhaled, his chin dropping as he returned his attention to the moaning corpse still pinned under the body of another near his feet. He watched it momentarily, still squirming under the weight of the other body, desperately trying to free itself so that it could take a bite out of Rob. He crouched down beside it, staying at a safe distance so that even if the creature had managed to get its arms free, it wouldn't be able to reach him. It snarled and hissed at him through decaying teeth and lips that were worn away. Rob just scrunched his nose, completely disgusted at the sight of this thing.

Without any hesitation he lifted his arm up and plunged the knife down into the top of the corpse's head, giving it a quick turn once it had fully entered. Upon impact, Rob could hear the crunch of its skull and watched as the creature went limp on its back. Apparently, Rob had hit the monster's off switch.

He pulled his knife free and wiped it on the creature's rotting clothes. He stared at the blade. He'd need to wash it sometime soon, but then again he might end up using again. They weren't out of this place just yet.

He closed his eyes tightly and thought to himself in that moment. _Don't assume the best._

Standing up he walked over to the edge of the hallway where Sara was still crouched down beside the scared form of MJ. The boy's shoulders were hunched and he held his hands together tightly against the front of his body.

Sara looked up at Rob as he approached them. She saw his features soften as his eyes looked over the terrified boy. Then, his eyes met hers and he gave her a subtle nod.

"You two good?" He asked.

She nodded back. "Yeah." Her voice sounded strained, like she was holding back her emotions. This boy, MJ, and just how bad he seemed to be taking everything was clearly her mind's focus.

Rob's eyes moved back to MJ and he lifted his hand up onto the boy's shoulder. "MJ..." MJ's eyes wandered the area behind Rob before suddenly shooting up to meet his. "You okay?"

A slight pause. "Yeah. Yeah." MJ nodded his head quickly as he swallowed hard. "I'm sorry. I – I didn't know you guys were –" He lifted his arm to point at the dead corpses that Rob and Sara had just taken out, but he barely pointed a finger before dropping his hand back to his side. "That those things were..."

"It's fine, bud." Rob's hand gently squeezed the boy's shoulder, causing the boy's eyes to look back up at his. "It's okay. We're okay. Right?" Rob allowed himself to smile in reassurance as MJ could only nod in response. The kid was clearly still being affected by everything that had happened to him since this all began roughly one month ago.

Rob and Sara exchanged a worried look; Rob's chin dipping onto his shoulder.

 _The others._

That's when Rob thought past the petrified boy and remembered about Preston and Jack. Where were they?

Looking up at Sara again, he knew she was already thinking the same thing that he was as she tilted her head toward the boy, her eyes locked on Rob's, silently pushing him to ask about the others.

Rob focused his stare back on the boy. His other hand reaching up, holding the knife still and making sure he had it pointing away as his hand came down on MJ's shoulder.

"MJ? Hey." The boy's eyes – still petrified, but quicker to respond this time – met Rob's. "Is everything okay?"

MJ didn't respond at first. He looked like he was trying to work something out in his mind; something that needed to be said.

"Hey, MJ...look at me." Rob shook the boy's shoulders very lightly as he dipped his own head, tilting it up toward the kid so that he could look directly into the boy's eyes. "Where's Jack and Preston? Are they okay?"

He and Sara waited for a response from the boy, but before they could receive one, their question was given its answer.

First, they heard heavy footsteps coming down the hallway in their direction. The mumbling voices of Preston and Jack as they moved as quickly as they could manage with the older man's bad leg. As Rob looked up he saw Jack, his arm wrapped around Preston, helping the other man forward. Then, Rob heard it.

Before a smile came over his face at the safety of the rest of the group, the groans shot that smile back down. The groans. The dead ones were getting closer.

MJ shot around and stared down the hallway, moving to Jack's side as the two men approached. Sara looked on with wide eyes, her chest rising and falling more noticeably now. The shadows from the group of creatures beginning to show on the wall in the distance.

Rob looked at Jack and Preston as they came to a stop. The two men breathing heavily with a mixture of tiredness and fear.

"They were getting too close. I sent MJ ahead of us." Jack breathed deeply and exhaled again, looking up at Rob. "There not far behind us." He spoke quieter that time.

The groans grew louder as they stood there, all of them looking back down the hallway, watching the shadows on the walls begin to grow in size.

Rob's mind was working at full force. They had to move now. They had to get out. They needed some time incase something else, God forbid, happened on their way out.

"Jack!" Rob called, not bothering to whisper anymore. He threw is arms out as he moved closer to the two men who had just arrived. "I'll take Preston."

Jack immediately helped Preston transfer his weight into Rob's arms. The older man wrapping one of his arms around Rob's neck before Jack let go.

Looking to Jack, Rob gave his instructions. "Go to the door, make sure the way out is clear." He turned, this time facing Sara. "Sara, go with him. Keep MJ close to you. We'll follow behind."

Jack moved toward the door and upon opening it up noticed that he was barely able to see anything through the darkness that drenched the entire stairwell.

"You need any help?" Sara's eyes were still wide as she stopped, looking back at Rob and Preston.

"Go...go, we're good." Rob nodded his head to the exit as he spoke.

Understanding the need to move Sara didn't ask again. She took MJ by the hand and moved to the door where Jack was already standing.

"We're gonna need to leave this open, Rob!" Jack called back. "If its shut, we won't be able to see a damn thing in here."

Rob hesitated to give the okay in leaving the door open. What if the exit was locked? They'd be trapped in the stairwell with no way out. But if they couldn't see anything, they might hurt themselves leaving or even run straight into another corpse. It wasn't a necessary risk to take, leaving the door open, but it would make moving through the stairwell much easier. Hell, if the door to outside was locked, they were already screwed as that was the exit they were taking. It had nothing to do with leaving this first door open.

Rob looked behind him. He could see the front of the group of dead ones down the hall. He breathed in deeply and turned back, giving Jack a quick nod.

Jack immediately bent down and pulled a chair from the nearby wall, using it to hold the door open. He moved into the stairwell. As far as he could see, it was clear.

By the time Rob and Preston had gotten to the door, Jack had already made it down to the exit at the bottom with Sara and MJ not far behind.

Rob stopped at the top of the stairs, letting Preston go from his hold. Preston leaned forward onto the railing as a means of support and in order to catch his breath.

Rob looked back again. The group of the dead was getting closer, but they still had time. He called down the stairwell. "Jack! Is it open?" He waited for an answer with Preston at his side. "Tell me its open." He whispered through clenched teeth. His last comment gained a look from the older man next to him.

He heard Jack grunting as he slammed the bottom of his foot against the door. The short bursts of metal scraping concrete could be heard.

"Its stuck, but I can get it open. Just need twenty...maybe thirty seconds." A pause, as he rammed the side of his body into the door. "I'll get it open!"

Rob wasn't sure how long they had as he looked back. The creatures were nearing the end of the hallway now.

"Hurry up, Jack! I don't know how long we have!" He called down to the younger man.

"Shit." Jack cursed under his breath as he pushed and pushed against the door. MJ was behind him with Sara.

Jack was glad Sara was there to try and help keep MJ calm. He wanted to be comforting his little brother, but he couldn't do that and get this door open at the same time. Not with the urgency that came in getting them all out safely. He needed to do this now, and to have Sara there with MJ, well, he was more than thankful.

At the top of the stairs Preston reached at his waist, pulling his gun from his pants and checking the rounds he had left. Once Rob noticed what the older man was doing, he did the same.

"How many rounds you got?" Preston asked, eyeing the advancing dead ones who were now stumbling toward the three dead corpses that Rob and Sara had taken out no more than a few minutes earlier.

"Four, you?" Rob asked, pushing the magazine back into place.

"Six." Preston answered. He looked up at Rob, the fear in his face noticeable now more than ever.

"Alright." Rob reached out for the older man, adjusting his grip above Preston's waist. "Let's go."

The two of them began to make their way down the staircase as Jack continued to slam against the door at the bottom. The door was opening little by little. It was wide enough for them to fit through one at a time, but it felt to Jack as though something was blocking it on the other side.

Jack turned around and saw the other two men as they approached the bottom of the stairs. Sara was still with MJ, turning around to look at the two men and check to see if the dead had reached the staircase just yet. They hadn't, but Jack knew they must've been close.

"We gotta move!" Rob called out. "They're coming. We gotta go now!"

Jack felt his heart begin to pound. It felt as though it would rip through his chest. He looked at his younger brother. His hand reaching out and landing on the side of MJ's arm. MJ looked up at Jack and Jack gave him a nod.

 _They'll get out._

Jack heard the groans reach the staircase. MJ's eyes immediately flying above them. Jack was out of time. They all were.

"Just give me a few seconds! Do whatever you can to –" He was cut off.

"There is no time!" Preston called as he held his gun tighter. The corpses had just entered the top of the stairwell and were approaching the first of two staircases.

Jack scrunched his face up, angry at the lack of time they had and at the stubbornness of this damn door. He moved to the door, pushed it open as much as he could, and began to squeeze his way through.

"Hey! Jack!" Sara called, taking a step toward the door. The rest of them looking toward the door now as well.

"Take them out if they get too close!" Jack called back as he reached the outside. MJ ran to the door, but Jack held his hand out to him, his palm raised in a stopping signal. Sara grabbed MJ from behind as they waited at the door.

Jack checked around the exit outside. The area seemed clear. Clear enough with the rush they were in. He noticed the dumpster that had been blocking the door. Another dumpster to its side, explaining the trouble he had been having in getting the door open any further.

"Fuckin' – you gotta be kidding me." Jack mumbled to himself, shaking his head as he returned to the door.

At this point the creatures were about to get to the first step at the top of the stairwell. Preston and Rob had their guns raised, the groans and hissing echoing through the staircase.

Rob looked back just as Jack appeared from outside the door.

"It's clear, let's go!" Jack yelled in.

Rob watched as Sara released her grip on MJ and the boy rushed to the door, making his way through the opening and began to step out into the daylight.

He was glad that kid was away from everything in this hospital now. He felt bad for the boy. He didn't need –

Rob's thoughts were cut off as several corpses fell down the first staircase, crashing into the wall and the ground with thuds and cracking sounds. They moved on the ground now, pulling themselves toward the next staircase and toward Rob and Preston. The ones who had fallen first – some of which had crashed so hard that their heads had cracked open against the wall – had provided a cushion for the others, who were able to get back to their feet relatively quickly.

"Shit." Rob hissed. He looked back. MJ was outside now and Sara was by the door, looking back at him and Preston as Jack helped to pull her through.

"Shoot 'em if they get to close! We're moving down to the door." Rob spoke loudly into Preston's ear as they began to move down the last few steps. The groaning that echoed in the stairwell was becoming too loud to hear anyone else unless they yelled.

Outside, Jack had spoken to MJ firmly, telling him to stay right beside him, next to the dumpster. As Jack continued to help Sara out, he saw the worry on her face for Rob and Preston.

"They're at the bottom now." He said as he looked past her.

"I can help pull them through. It'll be quicker." She insisted.

"Sara, no." He said back, but she moved in close to the door, ignoring his words. "Sara, NO." She looked at him. Surprised at his raised voice. His voice lowered again as he spoke. "I need you over there, ready to help push the dumpster back as soon as they're outside. We can't have those things in there getting out too and chasing us forever." He looked at her, holding her stare before she finally nodded.

"Okay." She said. "Okay." She breathed in deeply and moved back, away from the door with MJ. They went over to the side of the dumpster and waited to help Jack push it back.

Back inside the stairwell Preston and Rob had reached the bottom. Moving to the door, Preston fired a shot back into the corpse's head who had been about to take the first step down. It'd end up falling right by them, maybe end up biting their ankles as they tried to get out. Instead, he had shot it dead so that when it fell, it wouldn't be getting back up; wouldn't be biting their ankles or any part of them.

"Let's go!" Jack's voice sounded from behind them as they backed up. "Come on!" His voice echoed in the enclosed area just as Preston fired another shot, taking out the next corpse in line.

"Preston go, I'll cover you." Rob instructed.

Preston glanced at him. "I'm hurt. Better you go first Rob, incase you guys need to help me out. I got this in here, I'll wait."  
"Preston –"

"Don't argue. Go! I'll follow." Preston spoke loudly, firmly instructing Rob this time.

Rob knew there wasn't time to argue. As much as he didn't want anyone to be behind him in this, he knew he had to just go. Especially when another shot fired from Preston's gun, he knew that he had already wasted a few precious seconds and he couldn't waste any more.

"Rob." Jack's hand was outstretched.

Rob began to squeeze through the opening, grabbing onto Jack's hand. Jack pulled him through, helping him get out quickly.

As Rob made it out into the sunlight he heard another shot. His eyes met Jack's before both of them looked back inside, moving back toward the door immediately.

Inside, Preston counted his shots. He had two left as he backed up in front of the door. Some of the corpses had already fallen down the second staircase and some of the fallen ones had begun getting back up to their feet.

"Preston!" Rob called through the door. Preston turned to begin to squeeze through the door. "We got you, come on!"

Rob and Jack reached for him, ready to pull him through.

As half of Preston's body was outside, he fell forward onto the ground. "Ah!" He grunted as he hit the ground.

The three of them looked back, seeing two corpses gripping his bad leg. They were trying to pull him in a little closer. Trying, but failing.

Preston immediately pulled his other leg free and began kicking at the heads of the two corpses. As Rob and Jack continued to pull him, they realized that the corpses were being pulled through the door as well.

Rob realized that this wouldn't work.

Jumping up, he let his gun fall to the ground. He pulled his knife from its sheath and approached the door. Crouching down he thrust the blade of the knife into the closest corpse. The thing fell limp. The second corpse however, still trying to hang onto Preston's leg, had now become pushed up against the door and was out of Rob's reach.

Jack called back to to Sara. "Push the dumpster!"

Sara didn't hesitate as she began to push her weight against the dumpster. MJ helped her as they managed to get it moving. Once it had hit into the open door, the corpses beginning to gather behind the door, Sara and MJ began having problems getting it any further.

Preston was aware of what they were trying to do as Jack watched the dumpster stop moving.

"Go!" Preston called to Jack as he continued kicking at the corpse, just about able to free his leg from the thing. "They need help!"

Preston looked up at the corpse. He saw Preston's leg was just about free. If they got the dumpster pushed into the door, it would shut, and with Preston's leg just about free, he'd be able to pull it away safely.

Jack jumped up and ran back toward Sara and MJ at the dumpster. "Here." He pushed his shoulder into it and helped them move it forward, now able to get it going.

Rob saw the door closing, the gap shutting quickly. The corpse that he had already taken out was still lying between the door and the wall. They didn't need the door staying open because it had gotten stuck on this one corpse. So instead of letting that happen, he reached out quickly and dragged the body out of the gap just as the door closed shut.

The second corpse had lost its grip on Preston's leg, slipping down to his foot and then to nothing. Preston pulled himself away, watching the door shut. As it did, the second corpse's arm was lodged between the frame and the door, a reminder of how close that had been for them.

The groans of the dead could be heard – muffled by the barrier between them – inside the stairwell.

Rob crouched down to the side of the door, his head dropping. Preston stayed on his back, staring forward at the closed door. His mind focused on the corpses behind it, where he had almost found himself stuck inside.  
Sara walked away from the dumpster, back toward the door, Jack comforting his brother, MJ, as they followed behind her. Now, they all stood there staring betwenn each other.

Breaking the silence, Rob spoke. "Everyone good?"

More silence. No one needed to speak. They all looked around at each other, they were all safe for now. They had escaped the hospital, but just barely.

Rob stood up, wiping the blade of his knife off on the corpse's clothes once again.

Sara bent over to help Preston, who went to stand, but grimaced as he did. The pain in his leg causing him more trouble.

"You okay?" Sara asked.

"Yeah...fine." He looked at her, giving her a small smile. "Thanks." Rob came over and held his arm out to Preston. He reached out, grabbing the man's arm and accepting his help as Sara continued to stare at him.

She looked between them both, giving a nod to Rob. She noticed his gun on the ground by the door and went over to pick it up. Bringing back over to him, she spoke. "Shouldn't leave this behind." She held it out.

He took it and placed it back into the front of his jeans. "Thanks."

Sara held her eyes on him, then looked to Preston, before she looked back at Rob once more. "Never know when you'll need it." She nodded back to the door at which they could still hear the groans emanating from.

Rob shook his head, helping Preston move forward as they followed behind Sara. The three of them met up at the dumpster again with Jack and MJ.

"Where to now?" Jack asked, his hand resting on MJ's shoulder.

Rob looked around the area, to his left was a military supply station, a helicopter, humvees...to his right was the area that they had come from before entering into the hospital. He knew they needed to find medical supplies, probably a safe place to stay for the night as well. It was the late afternoon already. But, he had to find that man. He couldn't have gone far and the way he left he would have exited the building up by that military station.

"Rob?" Sara looked at him, her brows furrowing. She waited for his response.

"We head that way." He nodded his head toward the left. "We need to find that man...find medical supplies. Most likely he exited over there."

"Why do we need to follow that guy, Rob? I don't understand your persistence about it." Sara held her arms together in front of her as she breathed out heavily.

Rob looked at her and held her stare. Then he looked down at the ground as he began to speak. "He didn't know what was going on, that much was noticeable. I can't leave him out here to die when we're so close to him. We can help him, so I'd like to try."

Sara scoffed. She turned, shuffling her feet underneath her. "Rob, Preston...he _needs_ medical help."

Jack and MJ stood to the side, waiting to hear what the next stop would be. Preston kept his head down ignoring Sara's choice to involve him in this argument, but appreciating the thought nonetheless.

"Sara, I know." Rob replied as he looked off to his side. He turned and looked back at her. "Look, the guy hasn't been out of the hospital...he chose to just walk out even after seeing the stuff he's seen. He must be from around here. Probably doesn't live far away. Instead of just aimlessly trying to find supplies, he might know of places that...that most people might not have gone to yet." She looked at him, just staring at him. "If he does, he might be able to help us. Its better than just hoping to come across some supplies, Sara."

There was silence; a long pause.

She shook her head and exhaled. "Fine. Okay." She took a step further and then turned back to him. She spoke in a low voice. "I hope your right, Rob."

As she turned to walk away, Rob and Preston took a step forward, following her lead. Preston hissed out a breath, his bad leg taking weight from the step.

They all looked back at him again. Sara came toward him. Her brows were lowered and she had a worried look on her face.

"Preston," Sara held her hand out for him, grabbing his arm lightly. "You sure you're okay? Your leg isn't getting worse now, is it?" She looked genuinely concerned for him.

He smiled at her and waved her off. "I'm good. I can keep going. Let's just find that man...hopefully he can help us out."

Sara nodded and gently tapped his arm. "Okay." She glanced at Rob again, giving him a look of judgement before turning back around. She was worried for Preston; for all of them. Now they were taking a risk following this man who they had seen in the hospital and knew nothing about. She just hoped Rob's guess was the right one.

Rob knew it as he took in her gaze. He knew he was taking a risk. Risking them all. He considered in that moment forgetting about following that man. For all he knew he could be dead, but his gut told him to try. To try and help a man who was as good as dead on his own. And that's what he was gonna do.

"Come on. Up there." Rob pointed to the side of the military supply station that looked out at a suburban neighborhood. Maybe the man had gone that way. At least they could check there first; see if they see him. "It's likely he headed over there. It leads out to some suburban areas I think. If he's from here, he might be headed there...back to where he lives."

"Well let's get moving then. The quicker we find out, the sooner we can get some supplies." Jack said. He tapped MJ on the back as they began to walk, Sara right behind them and Preston, walking with the help of Rob, close behind her.

 **** Author's Note -** Again, thank you to everyone who is and will be reading this! Feel free to write any feedback and/or constructive criticism you might have and if you're enjoying the story so far, please comment/follow/favorite. Thanks so much and I hope you enjoy this re imagining of the story!

**As I mentioned in the beginning, Rick didn't come back into the story in this part. I had thought I'd have that in here, but I ended up writing way more than I had expected to...which is a good thing, right?

Anyway, he will come back into the story in the next chapter. As for the group meeting him and the group meeting Morgan, I'm not sure whether that will be in the next chapter also. Thinking of what I've written and what I have left to write, I'm assuming it'll be in the 5th chapter.

So, if not next chapter, definitely expect the 5th chapter to begin with this group running into both Rick and Morgan...and Duane. Also, Rick meeting Duane's shovel.


	4. Chapter 4

***Disclaimer...I do not own The Walking Dead or any of its characters. I only own the five characters not from the show.(Rob, Sara, Preston, Jack, and MJ)**

 **Surviving Our Extinction**

Chapter Four

For ten minutes they walked. They passed by the hospital grounds, passed by the military supplies, the helicopters and the humvees; all of it abandoned. They walked until they came to the edge of a nearby neighborhood, continuing down the first block or two before slowing their pace.

The neighborhood had not very long ago been home to so many families; happy families who went about their normal, everyday lives. Their children probably outside, playing together in the quiet streets on a day with such perfect weather. Perfect weather like Rob, Sara, and the others were experiencing as they walked through the streets.

Their group continued on at a slower pace than they had been moving at, passing by the empty homes as they carefully walked further into the neighborhood. Except as they walked there were no children playing outside; no happy families going about their normal lives. There was only an empty neighborhood for as far as they could see. An empty shell of what it once had been and now, full of its new inhabitants.

The dead wandered aimlessly through the streets, through the yards, wandered and waited for their potential meals to come to them.

Except Rob and the others were smart enough to avoid the creatures. Actually, maybe _smart_ wasn't the right word. Only an idiot would walk straight into a group, or in this case, a moderately crowded street full of the dead. Then again, even an idiot wouldn't do that. Only someone with a strong death wish would even consider such a thing. But no one here had any such wishes.

As they walked, Sara couldn't help but notice MJ in front of her. The boy was in a constant, frightened state of his surroundings.

Thoughts ran through her head about the boy. She felt awful for him. Awful for the fact that he'd lost any hope of having a full, normal childhood. A childhood full of happy memories with friends and family, new experiences, and firsts as any kid should have. But none of that was possible now. He was scarred. All he had left was his brother. His parents were dead, his family was dead...most likely his friends and their families were dead. Everyone he had ever known was most likely dead at this point.

But then, Sara stopped. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts from it. She realized that all of those thoughts about MJ were also the same for her. Aside from being a child, of course, but everything about being alone, about everyone you once knew being dead, and about life never being able to be normal again was true for her as well. It was true for all of them.

Then she heard Rob's voice as he came to a stop with Preston, calling to the others in front of them to stop walking. Sara turned around with Jack and MJ as Rob placed Preston against a tree for support.

Her face must've been expressing her feelings on what had just been going through her mind because Rob stutter stepped as he passed her and moved in her direction instead.

He placed a hand on her arm, looking into her eyes with pure concern as he spoke. "Sara? Are you alright?"

She looked up to him, her eyes holding unshed tears and glistening in the late afternoon sun. "Hmm? Oh...yeah, yeah." She nodded and wiped her eyes with her sleeves.

Rob still stared at her with the same concern in his face. "Are you sure? Do you need to rest, or –"

He didn't need to finish his question. She shook her head and wiped her eyes some more, removing any wetness from the tears that had yet to fall. "I'm okay." She reassured him and smiled as she moved over to where Preston was leaning against a tree, clearly in pain from his leg.

Rob had nodded once to her and had watched her walk away, confused at what had suddenly caused her to become upset to the point that she had been on the verge of crying. Not once had he seen her cry through this. Sure, he had just met her; they all had just met less than a month ago, but still. Everything that had been going on when they had met, something had to have really bothered her to almost bring her to tears in that moment.

He turned around, keeping his concern for Sara in his mind as he made his way over to Jack. Jack was pointing toward Sara and Preston as he spoke quietly to MJ, the boy now walking over to the other two by the tree.

Rob smiled as he passed MJ and the kid managed to give him the slightest hint of a smile he had ever seen on anyone in return. But it was a start for him, which was a good sign.

Rob walked up and stood beside Jack. The two of them looked out across the surrounding area, their eyes sweeping for any movement or any place that might be worth looking at. Rob, of course, was also searching for that man from the hospital. Hoping he'd catch a glimpse of him nearby.

"How long we stopping for?" Jack asked, his eyes still looking around them.

"Not long." Rob answered, his eyes still searching the area as well.

A slight pause followed and Jack nodded. "Just asking. I mean this area is a decent place to stop. No dead ones nearby from what I can see."

Rob turned and looked at Jack, their eyes meeting for a moment as Jack shrugged. Then their eyes returned elsewhere.

"We should probably stay low though. Crouch down or something?" He pointed back toward the others. "Don't know what might spot us that we wouldn't want seeing us."

Rob and Jack looked back at the others. They were crouched down and sitting by the tree that Rob had left Preston at. The bushes on one side of them providing cover from anything or anyone that might notice them.

"Smart idea." Rob replied, a low chuckle escaping his lips.

Jack just raised his brows and tilted his head, smiling sarcastically at the obviousness of the suggestion.

Another pause followed. This one longer than the last.

Jack eyed Rob peripherally without turning his head. The man's face showing that he was contemplating something. Jack took a deep breath and turned toward the thoughtful man at his side. "So, you sure he went this way?"

Rob turned, looking at the younger man beside him; who was really still just a kid. Only twenty years old, but everyone who was still alive, even only a month into this hell, had had to grow up at least a little bit. Jack raised his eyebrows slightly and held his lips tightly against each other; a small smile forming before he returned his eyes back out in front of him.

Rob's brows lowered as he thought, his eyes falling to the grass in front of him that had grown much longer in the past month than it would have ever been allowed to before all of this. "Not sure to be honest." He replied. His eyes lifted up and focused again on the area around them. "Best guess...he might've come toward the houses around here. But even if he did," he shrugged, "can't really be sure exactly where he'd of gone."

Jack's head dipped as he looked down at the ground in front of him. His jaw muscles tensing as he thought. "So what now then?"

"I'm still trying to figure that out." Rob answered. He turned his head and saw Jack looking back at MJ. The boy was still sitting beside Sara while Preston leaned against the tree and kept watch in the other direction. "Hey."

Jack turned, his eyes meeting Rob's. The worry in his features was clear and Rob had noticed it immediately.

"If we don't see this guy soon we'll find a place to lay low for the night. Maybe make a quick run to see if we can scavenge anything before dark." Rob looked back at the others as he continued to speak. "Preston can rest his leg...we all can rest. Then pick up the search for supplies in the morning." Rob did his best to give the younger man beside him a reassuring smile.

Another long pause followed.

"I –" Jack bobbed his head up and down in a nod. "I trust you Rob. We all do. I mean its pretty important that we all trust each other, right?" He looked up at Rob, who's smile had faded; he just listened now. "You don't have to worry about that. I'm just worried about our safety...being out here..."

Rob knew what he meant. Being out here when they didn't have to be. The same thing Sara thought. The same thing he was thinking.

"I know. So am I. I just had a strong feeling in my gut that this guy might be able to help us, but...if finding him turns out to be too much of a hassle...well, then we –"

"Rob! Jack!" Sara forced out a whisper just loud enough to gain their attention and in the process cutting off what Rob was saying.

The two men exchanged a glance with each other and immediately began to reach for their weapons, but when they saw Sara waving them over, her face more intrigued than worried, their hands began to fall away from their guns.

Rob patted Jack's back and motioned with his head to go back over to where the others were waiting. "Come on, better see what's up."

They made their way over to the tree, making sure to stay low as they went. Sara reached her arm out and pointed to the next block over as they came up beside her.

"Preston spotted him." She said.

Jack and Rob's eyes both followed her finger and as they did the two men realized what they were talking about. It was the man from the hospital.

They sat there and watched as he reached down for a bicycle that had been laying on the grass at the edge of a large field. As he picked it up though, he stumbled backward, falling to the ground.

Squinting their eyes they saw what had startled the man. There was a corpse, at least several feet from the bicycle, that the man had not seen at first. It was only half a corpse though, the upper portion of what was once a person, pulling itself along the grass in the man's direction. Its arms so thin and worn away as they gripped the grass in front of its body, pulling the rest of what remained of itself and leaving a trail of blood and guts along the grown-out grass.

The man pushed himself away from the thing, getting back to his feet quicker than expected with the wound to his midsection.

As they watched from a distance, Rob spoke. "With that reaction," he pointed at the man, "I think its safe to say he's clearly very new to all of this."

"How?" Sara asked in disbelief. "How could he not have known? Its been weeks!"

Rob shrugged as they all continued to stare, watching the man get back to his feet. "I have no idea."

The man from the hospital had returned to the bicycle. Adjusting himself carefully on the seat, careful not to put too much pressure on his wound, he began to pedal. He was slow at first, having trouble gaining balance and speed, but eventually he began to make his way down the road at a slow pace.

"He's leaving again." Jack sounded frustrated as he pointed the obvious out to the others.

"We can't yell out to him...not with those creatures nearby." Rob countered. He stood up and took a few steps, making his way around the bushes to the street. "Me and Jack, we'll run ahead, try and follow him."

"Wait, what do you mean run ahead?" Sara questioned him, her voice more than a little frustrated. "What are we supposed to do? What about Preston's leg?"

Rob watched as the man began to angle the bike to make a left turn at the next corner. He knew they had to go or else they'd risk losing him again. He turned back to the others, looking at them before his eyes landed on Sara. "Listen to me. Me and Jack will try to follow him. He just made a left up at the next corner. If he gets too far or we can't keep up, we'll...we'll come back and meet you guys again. Just help Preston walk and follow where we go."

"But Rob, Preston...his leg." Sara threw her arm out at the wounded man. "We can't keep up."

"I'm fine." Preston countered.

Sara turned to him and argued. "You're not fine. You're hurt." She looked at his leg. "And you're wound is bleeding again." She went to reach for his leg, but he stopped her.  
"I'm okay...we'll fix it up when we find a place for the night." Preston replied, but something more was bothering him; weighing down on the older man's mind. Sara could tell at that point.

Rob's voice grabbed her attention again and she turned around to face him.

"Look, we'll try and follow him, but we gotta move now." He looked at Jack. "Hopefully this guy isn't going far, but if he does, we'll head back and meet up again. If he stops soon, we'll wait for you guys okay?"

"Stay close to Sara and Preston, okay bud?" Jack instructed his younger brother, raising his brows at him as he spoke.

MJ responded with a simple nod, his eyes glued to his brother's.

"Just keep moving forward, okay? Follow where we go." Rob said, his eyes focused on Sara's as he backed up away from them. Turning around he bounced into a jog and ran off ahead of them with Jack at his side, in search of where this guy had gone to now.

Sara was left standing there with Preston and MJ at her side. It was clear she was annoyed with this decision. A stupid decision. That's what this was. It was something that they didn't need to do. They didn't have to be out here, exposed to anything that might come near them, and now they were separated.

" _Asshole._ " Sara mumbled under her breath, closing her eyes as she shook her head. She lifted her arms, crossing them in front of her chest.

"Sara?" Preston's voice caused her to turn around to face him. "Mind giving me a little help here?" He winced as he pushed himself off of the tree.

She didn't understand why his leg seemed to be getting worse all of a sudden. He wasn't telling them something. She could feel it. But the man was in pain and needed help. No time to argue.

"Sure." She walked over to him and took his arm, placing it over her shoulder. She helped him stand and began to walk forward with him.

"Do you need help?" The question surprised both Preston and Sara. The voice that had asked it surprising them even more.

MJ stood beside them, looking to them and awaiting a response. He stared at Preston. "I can help you walk if you need me too."

Preston smiled down at the kid. "I appreciate your offer, buddy. I do. But, the thing is," his forehead scrunched up as he raised his brows at the boy, "I only need one helper to walk." He watched as his answer caused the boy's face to fall.

MJ looked at the ground now as he began to walk forward.

Preston couldn't help but feel bad by turning down the boy, who had finally just gained enough confidence to offer to help them with something. " _But_ ," Preston's voice caused the boy to stop, his head turning around, his brows rising at what the man might be about to say next. "Just in case, can you keep watch for any of those...those creatures that may be off in the distance?"

MJ immediately looked around, growing worried that the dead ones were near them.

"Hey, hey...MJ, its okay." Preston held his hand out, his palm up, facing the boy. "I just meant that you could keep watch, and _if_ you _did_ see any you'd let us know. That's all." Preston gave a genuine smile as he corrected himself. He felt bad that he couldn't help the boy more with his debilitating fear of this new world that they all had no choice but to live in now.

MJ took in a deep breath and exhaled. He nodded and tried to compose himself, thinking he could make Sara and Preston believe that he hadn't been scared in that moment. "Sure. Sure, I can do that."

Sara and Preston couldn't help but smile at the boy.

"Alright. Now, let's try and keep up as best we can with Rob and your brother. Don't wanna fall too far behind." Preston said, smiling at the boy.

Turning his head, he nodded, indicating to Sara to start walking with him.

As they began moving forward, MJ stayed a few steps ahead of them.

"He's trying." Sara whispered to Preston. He turned and looked at her, realizing she was talking about the boy from the sad smile that was still on her face.

"He is." He replied, nodding in agreement. "He's a good kid. I just hope he overcomes some of that fear...I don't want it to end up hurting him.

"Well, with you, and his brother...Rob..." Sara started.

Preston cut in. "And you." His smile causing one to form on her lips as well.

She rolled her eyes a bit. "I guess...me." She shook her head at it. "He should be okay."

A pause followed. She looked at Preston. His smile had faded and he seemed as though he was deep in thought. His face was troubled.

"Sara.." Preston spoke. "I need to tell you something." She looked at him, concerned. "You can't tell anyone else though...not yet."

"What?" Sara said causing them to slow down. Her stomach beginning to turn as she worried about what he was working up to tell her. His leg, for some reason, making its way to the front of her mind.

"Keep walking...I don't want MJ to hear..." He said.

And so they kept walking.

MJ stayed a few steps ahead of them as they spoke. Their eyes never ceasing to watch the surrounding area.

Hopefully that man hadn't gone far. Preston, with his leg, wouldn't be able to continue at a decent pace for more than two or three blocks, if that long.

The sun would be setting soon and by that time they needed to be inside, somewhere safe for the night. They couldn't be stuck outside. It had become too dangerous for that now. Too dangerous to even think of doing that unless they were somewhere far away from where people were recently living. Otherwise, the chance that they'd be attacked by the dead ones was far greater than not. Not to mention they only had a few bullets left, aside from their knives, to defend themselves with. The five of them.

They needed to find this guy or they needed to find a safe place. They needed one of those things to happen, and fast.

* * *

Rick pushed down on the metal bar across the door, opening it up to the world outside the hospital. The sun's rays were bright, shining down into his eyes as they adjusted to the change in scenery. The stairwell had been pitch black inside and in the process of making his way down Rick had used at least two or three matches, all burnt down to the bottom, stinging the skin on Rick's fingertips.

He was relieved to be out of there; that hospital. He thought of how so many people in the world dislike hospitals, connecting the thought of death to them. Personally, he didn't think that way. Just as many people – probably more actually – went into the hospital and exited healthier and in better shape than when they had entered than people who entered the hospital and never left due to their death.

But what he saw in there, the nurse on the floor in the hallway and then that door. That second door he came to with the spray painted writing on it that read: _Don't Open, Dead Inside_.

As he had stood there staring at the door it had started to shake. There had been something behind it; something trying to force it open. Although with the way it was shut – the wooden board, the chains, the lock – he knew whatever was back there wouldn't be getting out until someone came and opened it up.

But then he saw them. The fingers peeking through, curling around the edges of the doors. Peoples' fingers. Human fingers that were bloody, tskin falling apart and grey, their nails broken. Then he heard the groans that accompanied the peoples' presence who were locked behind that door.

Rick had had enough at that point. He was petrified of what the hell could have possibly happened and what could possibly be going on. He had just woken up. He was dizzy, nauseous, tired, and everything that he was seeing was only making those sensations intensify with the addition of a growing fear and panic emerging from deep within him.

Now he was outside away from whatever that had been. Away from that corpse, away from those people, or whatever was behind that door, away from their decaying fingers, and finally out in the fresh air.

But when he stepped outside, it wasn't fresh air he smelled. In fact, the stench was so strong that he immediately had to cover his mouth and nose with his hand the second he stepped out of that stairwell, while his eyes still adjusted to the brightness of the sun.

And then, he saw it. Rows and rows of human bodies, lined up on either side of him. They were covered with sheets, some of their heads peeking out from under their cover. The state of their decaying flesh was a sign that they had been here for at least several days, just lying out in the hot sun. That and the fact that there were flies buzzing around everywhere, attracted to the dead bodies, laying there for God knows how long.

Every body though, as Rick walked through, looking at each corpse as he went, had a gunshot wound to the head. The blood now dry on the pale skin and stuck to the matted hair of each corpse. But why?

 _What is this? What's happening?_

Rick began to panic as those two questions played over and over in his head. He stumbled along, still getting used to walking again, and tried to keep his balance while he made his way out of that makeshift graveyard. Got away from that hospital.

Continuing on, he made his way up a small hill. At the top he came to an abandoned military station. Crates and boxes that once were full of supplies were now empty, laying out on the concrete. He assumed that whatever had happened here, that the military must have been involved in it and that some of them must have been stationed here to watch over the situation, whatever it was. Maybe they were the ones who had caused all the bullet holes in the hospital walls. Maybe they were fighting some sickness?

He began piecing together what he could, but he still wasn't sure. He couldn't be sure.

He passed by empty tents, empty humvees, even abandoned helicopters. Where had everyone gone off to?

Approaching the edge of the military station he could see his neighborhood in the distance. His house wasn't too far away, although he wasn't looking forward to walking there with his wound still aching badly and without any shoes on the hot pavement.

But he needed to get home. He needed to find Lori and Carl. He needed to make sure they were okay and he needed to find out what was going on.

Several minutes later as he walked along the sidewalk in front of so many suburban homes, he noticed a bicycle laying on the ground. To Rick it was the perfect way to give the soles of his feet a break and to take some pressure off of his abdomen.

As he approached the bicycle, his mind wandered. The neighborhood seemed empty. Were people home? Had whatever happened at the hospital also been happening in other areas? Had people been evacuated, being so close to the hospital? His mind was working at a mile a minute, trying to figure out the answers to his questions. It was working so hard that he didn't notice the corpse lying in the green grass of the open field to his left, no more than a few yards away from the bike.

As he reached down for the bike handles, he caught the object in his vision. Turning his head as he pulled the bike up off of the ground he stared at the corpse lying in the grass.

It was only half of a body. The bottom half, everything below the waist, was missing, the thing's intestines hanging out the bottom. They were dried out, like the corpses at the hospital, having probably been there for a while. But as he went to push the bike away, his eyes staying on the corpse, something happened that he hadn't expected.

The corpse turned over on its side, its mouth opening as it reached its arm out into the air for Rick. He whimpered in shock and fear as he stumbled backward, the bike falling with him to the ground. He stared for several seconds, in awe of it and disgusted by it at the same time.

Its skin was loose, but dried out into a pale shade of grey. Bruises and bite marks littered its body, anywhere that its body was still intact. Ribs exposed and dragging on the ground as it pulled itself toward Rick.

He got back up to his feet, swallowing back the urge to vomit and jumping onto the bicycle. He struggled to get going at first, his balance and strength not what they needed to be. But, after a few yards he got going at a slower than normal pace. He took a turn at the next corner and followed the sidewalk down to his house.

His house had only been less than a two block ride from where he had found the bicycle and left that corpse – which had seemed to be a woman – dragging herself along through the grass.

He jumped off the bike in front of his house, letting it continue forward on the sidewalk before falling over on its side. He walked quickly up the front walkway, angry at himself for having been so eager to get off that bike. Jumping off had caused him to pull at his side, straining the area around his wound in the process. Pushing past the pain, his head shot up and he noticed the front door was open. He picked up his pace, still pushing as best he could through any pain in his abdomen, before he rushed up to the door and went inside his home.

He pushed open the front door. "Lori." He received no answer. He gripped the wall for support as he made his way into the bedroom. "Lori!" Still no answer.

The bed was immaculate, but there were empty drawers laying on it. Someone had clearly pulled the drawers out from the dresser in a hurry to gather up the clothes. Rick picked up one of Lori's shirts, holding it tightly in his hand and looked around.

 _Where were they?_

He continued forward, dropping the shirt to the floor as he went. He grabbed the wall in support and looked into the next room. They weren't there. He pushed off the wall and turned back around, moving back through the bedroom and into the hallway.

"Carl!" He grew more nervous with every call of their names, every time receiving no answer. His stomach began to turn and his heart began to race as he began to panic.

He moved through the hallway, sweating out his nerves, but they only kept intensifying. "Carl!" Nothing. No answer.

He checked the back room and again found nothing. He turned back and made his way into the living room, on the verge of breaking down.

He took in a deep breath before letting it out in the form of a guttural cry. "Lori! Carl!" He continued making his way through the two remaining rooms of the house, spinning every which way, hoping to see them appear in front of him somewhere.

He started to whimper, his hand moving in front of his mouth in a fist. Falling to one knee, his whimpers turned into sobs and he began to cry.

"Lori!" He called out, his voice growing weaker as his attempt to find them was failing. "Carl..."

He fell onto the floor in a fetal position now, completely crying. He struggled to catch his breath in between his cries. Getting back up to his knees he tried to regain some composure, but it was useless as he immediately lost it again, leaning forward and crying out. His head fell forward to the floor as he rocked back and forth.

He had no idea where his wife and child were. Where anyone was for that matter. He had awoken only less than an hour earlier to find himself alone in an empty hospital. The horrors he had seen on his way to his house taking a toll on his mind. Scaring him to death. He thought he would find them here, his wife and son, at their home. But no one was around anywhere throughout the neighborhood and no one was here. They were gone and he had no way of knowing where they had gone to. No way of knowing if they were safe. No way of finding them and it all was becoming too much for him to handle in that moment.

Flipping his hand over in front of his face he stared at both sides of it.

"Is this real?" He asked in a whisper to himself. "Am I here?"

He brought his hand up to his face and suddenly began to hit himself in the head. He whimpered, holding back tears in frustration and confusion.

"Wake up...wake up..." He muttered to himself. Looking around the empty house, he couldn't think of anything more to do or to say. His eyes flooded with tears as he sat there thinking of what could possibly be happening.

Or was he right? Was this just a dream? Was this all just in his head?

 **** Author's Note -** Thanks to everyone who is and will be reading this! Feel free to write any feedback and/or constructive criticism you might have and if you're enjoying the story so far, please comment/follow/favorite. I hope everyone is enjoying this re imagining of the story!

The following chapter will see the introduction of Morgan and will show how the group runs into him and his son, as well as how they finally end up catching up to and meeting Rick.


	5. Chapter 5

***Disclaimer...I do not own The Walking Dead or any of its characters. I only own the five characters not from the show.(Rob, Sara, Preston, Jack, and MJ)**

 **Surviving Our Extinction**

Chapter Four

They did their best, as they ran through the streets, to make as little noise as possible. Luckily there hadn't been many corpses around this area – the area that this hospital man had unknowingly led them to.

The shadows were shifting as the sun grew closer to setting. They had to hurry up with this. No way were they going to get stuck outside after dark. They hardly knew the area, and with all those corpses nearby on the adjacent streets, they'd be as good as dead if they were left out under the stars.

"God... _damn_ it..." Jack let out a whine that made Rob irritated. He wanted to tell the younger man to not be such a child. Because after that whine, that's exactly what Jack had sounded like.

Rob slowed his pace and came to a stop beside Jack. Both of them breathed in deeply, slightly out of breath from their two block sprint as they looked up at the sun in the sky, knowing that it would be setting soon.

"He came this way, didn't he?" Jack asked. He threw his arm out at the street in front of him, his palm facing the sky, before falling limp back at his side. "He only made that one turn back there."

Rob nodded as he began to eye the area around them, but he couldn't help but chuckle quietly to himself. This time though, he didn't try to hide his amusement as he looked over at the young man standing next to him. His eyes confused by Rob's chuckling as his arms lifted up to rest by his hips, his thumbs hanging from his pants' waist band.

Rob tilted his head to the side, his eyes squinting a bit as he spoke with raised brows. "Well maybe if you hadn't of stopped to tie your freakin' shoelace BEFORE we turned the corner to follow him...well, maybe then we would've seen where he went." He raised his eyebrows even further at the young man – who was really still just a kid – next to him, his chin coming in close against his neck, trying to hold in his laughter at this point. "Like seriously...how did you – you _really_ had to do that. You _really_ stopped to tie your damn shoe." Rob turned his head and chuckled again under his breath.

Jack just stood there staring at the amused man. Once Rob's head turned back to face him, Jack slowing raised his hand, his middle finger standing tall above his other fingers that were tucked into a fist. His facial expression was as sarcastically blank as someone's face could possibly be, causing Rob to turn away yet again, laughing some more. "Well Rob," Jack began as he looked back across the block to the opposite row of houses, "we didn't really have to follow him in the first place either..." He rolled his eyes, shaking his head, his back facing the man who, by this point, had stopped laughing. Rob's face, unable to be seen by Jack, suddenly became serious, his smile vanishing.

Rob closed his eyes, pushing past the slight annoyance from that last comment. He'd heard enough about his "bad call" at this point. He'd thought they had all understood where he was coming from on this, pushing for them to go find this man; to try and help him. He'd thought that they had gotten past that argument. But, he ignored the comment. He deserved it after his comment to Jack at least, who apparently took his joke a little too seriously than he expected him too.

As Jack stood there looking around at the houses that lined both sides of the street he noticed movement out of his peripheral vision from down the block. At the corner, where they had made the turn off from the other street, he could see MJ, his brother, walking in their direction, a few strides in front of Sara and Preston.

"Rob, they're here." Jack said. A bit of both excitement and relief in his voice as he turned back to face the other man he was with.

Rob had started to walk a bit further down the block, away from Jack, when his head turned back around at the sound his voice. "What?" His eyes wandered across the fronts of the houses, widening a little before landing on Jack, confused.

"You a'right there?" Jack asked. He was confused himself at Rob's response.

Rob looked past the younger man, seeing Sara, Preston, and MJ walking down the block in their direction. His face dropped with relief as he lifted his fingertips up, around the bridge of his nose and chuckled at himself. "Next time, be a little more specific as to who "they" are."

Jack stood there, his eyes squinted and his eyebrows lowered in confusion.

Rob let out a heavy breath. "We're all exhausted aren't we?" He walked over, ignoring the confused expression of Jack, and slapped the younger man on the shoulder. "I thought _they_ ," Rob pointed back to the others down the block, "meant the dead ones." Explaining is initial surprise he watched as Jack's expression loosened up.

Rob began to walk a bit ahead of Jack again, taking a few steps further down the block, his lips allowing a small, amused smile to form as he shook his head. A pause followed as he continued to walk away from Jack. As he walked, his eyes began to focus on something that he was growing closer to. He was unsure at first, but once he realized just what it was, his eyes widened.

"Jack!" Rob forced out a whisper, gaining the younger man's attention. Hearing the worried tone in Rob's voice, Jack looked over immediately and noticed that Rob's amused smirk was completely gone from his face. As he continued to stare, growing a bit worried from Rob's expression, he realized what Rob was pointing out to him. "The bike."

Jack took a few steps closer to Rob, both of them looking over at the bike and then around at the surrounding homes. But then they heard something that grabbed their attention. They began to hear cries from one of the houses nearby. Someone was crying.

Both of their heads turned, making eye contact with each other before turning to the house – two houses down from where Rob stood – that sat behind the sidewalk where the fallen bike lay. They exchanged another glance with each other, Rob giving a firm nod of his head as Jack turned back toward the others. He threw his arms above his head and began to wave them off to the opposite side of the street.

* * *

"Preston..." Sara began. Preston's slightly annoyed, but saddened eyes stared down at her beside him. Her voice had sounded weak, and he watched as her eyes met his, as they began to fill up with her unshed tears.

"Not now, Sara...don't...please." Preston cut her off, tilting his head in disapproval, willing his emotions away. "I'm fine."

"Is your leg worse?" The voice came from ahead of them. It belonged to MJ.

They both looked up at the concerned boy, confused as to why he was suddenly asking that question all of a sudden.

The boy stared back at them. He spoke, barely lifting his arm to motion at Sara. "She seems worried...but, you keep saying you're okay." His eyes directing his confusion at Preston for an answer.

Preston's brows lowered, still a bit confused as to what exactly the kid meant. Both he and Sara wondering if he had heard them talking behind him as they had been walking. Both of them hoping that he hadn't.

"I just figured that you might be saying that you're okay, but – well, I thought that maybe you're leg _is_ actually hurting you more than you're saying, or somethin'." MJ explained.

Sara's muscles loosened up all at once as she heard the boy's explanation. Preston's did the same.

"Oh..." Preston let a genuine smile form on his face. "I'm okay." He blinked slowly, as if returning from a daze, nodding to the boy in front of them.

Sara cut in. "Just me worryin' again. It's okay MJ." Sara smiled at the boy. Her eyes slowly working their way to the ground between them, then over to Preston's leg, before moving upwards and meeting the man's eyes with a stare that told him that she was struggling with this new information that he had given her.

MJ had shrugged his concern off, turning back around to continue walking. A short pause followed before he once again spoke to the two adults' attention. "Guys?" He began.

They both looked forward at him again, catching some movement from down the street.

"What's Jack doing?" The boy's shaky voice giving away his growing anxiety.

They all watched Jack as he waved his arms through the air at them, motioning for them to move to the opposite side of the street. Their right.

Preston and Sara immediately got the message once they'd seen Rob in the distance behind Jack. The other man was slowly, and carefully, making his way a little further up the street, his attention clearly focused on one of the houses in particular.

"MJ, get to the side of the road." Preston instructed the boy. MJ looked back to them, his face growing pale in the sunlight. "It's okay, bud. Just being cautious here, but we gotta move off the street."

The boy looked back to his brother, farther up the street. Jack had already turned back around and was moving to catch up with Rob. He obviously trusted Sara and Preston enough to listen to his directions – and to keep his little brother safe – so that he didn't have to stand there and make sure they did what he had told them to do. They needed to find some cover and keep themselves behind it just incase, until Jack and Rob told them otherwise.

"MJ, get over there...behind those bushes." Sara pointed to a group of bushes at the edge of one of the houses' front lawns. The boy looked back at Sara, then looked to Preston and his leg. He looked like he wanted to say something to them, but he didn't get the chance if he did. "Now MJ." Sara's voice became much firmer than its normal, friendly tone and grew in volume from what she had just said to him. "We're right behind you."

Reluctant to move away from them, MJ knew they needed to get off the street. He understood that. Pushing himself past his growing fear, his nerves beginning to cause him to feel weak and frozen like usual, he ran over to the large group of bushes on the side of the road. They were only a few houses down from where his brother, Jack, was now positioned, crouched down with Rob.

Sara followed the boy over to the side of the road, helping Preston with his bad leg. They lowered themselves toward the ground into a crouch, behind the boy and the bushes, Sara's arm never removing itself from a position of assistance around Preston's waist.

Her eyes followed the road up to where Rob and Jack were crouched down. They were still a little ways away. In that moment, she chose to make a decision, ignoring Preston's wounded leg for the first time that day. She ignored the boy's fear that she knew would come from her next directions to him, ignored Jack's frustration with her if he had known what she was about to do – especially since it involved his little brother – and ignored Rob's probable anger at her for putting themselves in potential danger instead of just staying put.

"MJ." The boy turned and stared at her with his typical frightened, wide eyes. "It's important that you listen to me right now." This gained Preston's attention as well. The wounded man's intrigued eyes fell on her again, his brows furrowing while MJ just nodded and listened through his growing fear. "Stay low, stay on the sidewalk, and keep moving forward as quickly as you can until you reach that group of bushes up there." She pointed ahead at the front of a house on their side of the street, about two houses down from being across the street from Rob and Jack. "We'll follow behind you, just like we did coming to this spot." She gave him a subtle nod and a small reassuring smile.

Just as the boy had turned and taken a step forward, Sara reached out and pulled him back down behind the bushes again. "Wait! MJ, wait." She forced out a whisper.

There was a man quickly making his way up the street, clearly working to stay quiet; unnoticed. And he had gone unnoticed. Not by Sara, Preston, and MJ, but by Rob and Jack, who hadn't noticed him until he was already at their backs.

" _Shit_." Preston muttered under his breath, before raising his voice to speak. "Who the hell is _that_?"

"I don't know." Sara stared up the block at the stranger as he approached Rob and Jack from behind, her hand still gripped tightly onto MJ's arm. "I don't know, but we gotta get up closer." She turned to Preston. "Still got your gun?"

Preston tilted his head to the side, wincing momentarily at the pain in his leg before his eyes lifted and pierced her with a you-should-know-better look. "You know that's not a smart idea."

"Gonna argue with me about making smart decisions?" She raised her eyebrows at him, a bit of attitude showing in her face.

Preston tensed his jaw as he looked down at the ground, shaking his head at his own bad calls more than he was at her. And he knew that that was her point to him. "Fine." He closed his eyes and exhaled loudly. Looking back at Sara, he held her stare before reaching to his back side for his gun. "Fine...but _you're_ not having it."

Sara rolled her eyes, simultaneously turning her head back to the side to look up the block again. "MJ, stay at our side this time." The boy nodded back Sara. Preston gave him a subtle nod of his own. "We'll move up together. Come on." She helped Preston back up to his feet and then began moving forward with MJ at the man's other side. "And stay low."

* * *

Jack and Rob stayed low, crouched down by the curb in front of one of the houses. They were sure that this was the house where the man's cries were coming from. The front door was slightly ajar, making it even more likely that this was the right house.

But then again, an open door didn't necessarily mean anything about it being the right house. The last time these houses were occupied people were most likely fleeing from the creatures; panicked. Who's to say they didn't just run out, leaving their doors open. So, Rob and Jack had to go off of the crying that they could hear – which by this time had discontinued – to find the right house.

"They good?" Rob asked.

"Yeah." Jack answered. His eyes focused on the house in front of them. "I motioned for them to move over to the side of the road."

Rob glanced back. His eyes found the others, landing on Sara and Preston as they approached MJ – who was crouched behind some bushes – on the other side of the street. "Okay, good." His eyes returned back to the house in front of him. "That's gotta be him in there."

Jack didn't answer at first, but when he did, it was with a question. "What do think those cries were?"

Rob exhaled. "Sounded like someone's name to me."

A pause followed.

"You sure he'll be in a decent mindset to talk with us?" Jack asked, looking at Rob briefly before turning back toward the house. "For all we know...with what we heard...he could've just found his family in there or something."

An even longer pause followed this time.

Rob exhaled again. "Only one way to find out, and that's by talking to the guy." He looked at Jack, and watched as the younger man sighed.

"Alright." Jack nodded, sounding unconvinced. "You ready?"

"Yeah. Yeah, let's go." Rob slapped Jack on the shoulder.

Right when they stood up to move toward the house a voice came from behind them. It was a man's voice, but it wasn't a voice that either of them recognized.

"That's far enough." The voice said. It was firm, but still sounded more on edge than either of them would've liked to hear. But then again, who wasn't on edge in the world at this point. "Get ya hands out and turn around, slowly."

Rob and Jack did as they were told, raising their arms in surrender as they turned to face whoever this man was. As they turned around they saw a middle aged black man, probably in his mid 40's from what they could tell. But honestly, what this guy looked like wasn't all too important at this point. All that mattered was that they didn't know this man, didn't know who he was or what he could do, and more importantly, this man didn't know who they were.

Not to mention the fact that this man was standing in front of them, holding up a revolver and pointing it at the two of them. They had to be careful to make sure that they said the right things, and having a gun pointed at them was not helping their thought process, or their nerves for that matter.

"Better start talkin'." The man said. His jaw muscles tensing as he stared at them.

In that moment all Rob's mind could formulate was one word: _shit_. As he looked to his side at Jack, he figured – from glancing at the younger man's facial expression – that he was probably thinking the exact same thing.

"Look, we don't –" Rob was cut off by the man pointing the gun at them.

The gunman shook his head at Rob. "I don't wanna hear some bullshit story. I ask, you answer. Ya hear?" He looked them over while waiting for them to speak. But, the two men standing in front of him were clearly very surprised by his unexpected arrival and were apparently at a loss for words.

Glancing off to his sides at the street around them, the gunman's patience was beginning to wear thin. He looked between the two men in front of him, trying to figure out who was more of the "one in charge."

"You from 'round here?" He asked, directing his question to Rob, figuring that he was the one who called the shots...if there were any "shots" being called.

Jack continued to stare at the ground, waiting to hear what answer Rob would reply with, while Rob just held the unknown gunman's stare.

Taking a deep breath, Rob did his best to try and calm himself. "No...been traveling since this all began."

"Then why are ya here?" The man asked in a suspicious tone.

Before Rob could answer the gunman again, Jack cut in, providing an answer for them both.

"Supplies." Jack struggled to hold the gunman's eye contact, who immediately looked to him when he had answered. His eyes squinted as he looked at Jack, taking in his answer. "Thought maybe there'd be some in this neighborhood." Jack added.

The gunman held his stare for a few seconds more before returning his focus back on Rob. "That the truth?"

Rob could see that this guy was very hesitant to trust them. That much was obvious. He seemed nervous; worried about something, but not necessarily about himself. That might explain his extreme caution...and the gun pointed at them from the start. But Jack's response was the truth, and that's exactly what Rob would tell the guy. "Yes. That's the truth." Rob answered, eyeing this man, while trying to measure him up.

The gunman nodded slightly. His eyes jumping between the two men, searching for any hints that they might be lying, or any cracks in their story, that could very well not even be the real story. As he looked them over his eyes performed a double take, locking onto a figure that was standing in the distance behind them. Both Jack and Rob noticed the stutter and turned to look at what had gained this man's attention suddenly.

What they saw surprised them. It was the man from the hospital, standing at the bottom of the front steps to the house behind them. They all stared, watching as he slowly and cautiously began to walk in their direction.

Jack flinched, gaining the gunman's full attention again, his weapon steadying as it was readjusted in his hand. He kept it pointed directly at the two men in front of him. "Don't move."

Both Jack and Rob looked to the gunman again, taking a small step back in reaction to the gun in his hand, but kept themselves from moving away from where they stood.

"Don't think I won't." The gunman said to them, his eyebrows lifting as his eyes widened just a bit. He held his focus on them for a moment longer before he looked past them again. The man from the hospital was still moving, dragging his feet at a very slow pace as he made his way towards them.

They all looked in his direction as he hesitated to take a few more weak steps out toward them in the street.

The hospital man looked completely terrified as well as completely exhausted. Rob could tell he was a bit confused as well, as his eyes were focused on the revolver in the man's hand, taking in the scene and studying it before looking up between all three of them.

At that point the man stopped moving closer. He wondered what might be going on, but wasn't fully there, otherwise he might've stayed away to begin with. He had stopped several feet from the halfway point of the front walkway. His focus now solely on the man holding the gun. He swallowed hard, making eye contact with the gunman, raising his hand above his face to stop the sun's rays from blinding him, as he squinted to see.

"S-sir...please. I need –" He began to take a step forward again, opening his mouth to speak, but was cut off halfway through his sentence.

"That's far enough." The gunman spoke, adjusting his feet underneath him as he spoke to this new stranger. He made sure to keep most of his focus on the two men still standing in front of him, only glancing over at the newest stranger every few seconds.

The man from the hospital stuttered on his feet and came to a stop after the gunman had spoken to him. "Please. I-I need help." He spoke in a raspy voice.

The revolver stayed firm in the gunman's hand as he allowed a little more of his attention to fall onto the new stranger, giving him a bit of a longer look at the man.

Meanwhile, Rob continued to watch the gunman in front of him. He studied his facial expressions closely and came to rather quick conclusion, believing that the gunman was struggling with what he was doing, trying not to seem weak to them. As if the guy would usually be someone who would offer assistance to the hospital man, and most likely to all of them.

He turned his head and his eyes immediately met with Jack's. He could see that Jack wanted to try something – while the gunman's attention wasn't fully on them – to get them out of this dangerous situation. But quite honestly, that was a stupid idea in general. If they did that, someone would end up getting shot, and it would very likely be one – or both – of them. All Rob could do was tilt his head slightly downward and hold Jack's eye contact with his own stern expression, subtly shaking his head at the younger man. He trusted Jack, especially after what Jack had said before they had run off down the block after the hospital man, and all he could do was hope that Jack would trust him and know enough not try anything stupid.

Rob turned his head back around, toward the man from the hospital, who was still asking the gunman for help, his eyes and face tinted red, most likely from crying.

That's what they had heard only minutes earlier. That's what drew them to this house – the right house – to try and find him. But that was before this gunman had snuck up on them.

Returning his attention back to the gunman, Rob could tell that the pressure was building in his head. He must've been struggling to figure out what he should be doing in this situation, which must've been a different plan of action than what he wanted to do – or what he could do.

In this world, someone who couldn't do what needed to be done was weak. They usually didn't make it unless they were with someone else who could do what needed to be done. But then again, whatever someone thought was what needed to be done, wasn't always the right thing to do; the right choice. That is what made those decisions the hardest – knowing what the right call was.

Regardless of who he was or what he was thinking, the fact that he hadn't shot them to begin with was a positive note to go by. Clearly this man wasn't just some murderer who had captured them.

"Hey." Rob spoke softly to the gunman, but his voice sounding determined. His eyes jumped back and forth between the gunman and the hospital man, who was now quiet. "We can help him."

The gunman didn't look at Rob at first, but after he had said his piece, he turned to him, his brows raised again. "You best stay quiet."

The man from the hospital looked between the other two men, and before the gunman looked back to him, he began to plead. "Please." The fear and confusion all growing stronger in his voice, giving a strong sense of desperation. "Please, my family. They...they're gone." He began to take another step forward as the other three men turned to face him once again.

"I said that's far enough!" The gunman's voice now raised as he ordered the hospital man to stop moving forward, effectively keeping him from coming any closer. He eyed the distraught man, eyed his outfit, eyed his face...and then he saw the bandage that was covered in blood. The gunman swallowed hard once he had noticed the bandage, his nervousness only visible to Rob.

It was an understandable nervousness on the gunman's part. Rob figured the chance that he'd end up helping any of them, especially the hospital man, had now become much slimmer. It had already been slim to begin with anyway, but from the way he stared at the man's bandaged abdomen...the gunman was nervous; maybe scared.

But Rob made sure to keep himself quiet, not saying a word as the gunman's mind was no doubt spinning, overflowing with thoughts about what to do next.

"That wound...what kind of wound is it?" The gunman asks, his voice shaky, though barely.

The man in the hospital gown was confused by the question, and his face showed it. He didn't understand why that would matter to anyone. He had just come from the hospital. That much had to have been clear by the way he was dressed. His wound, clearly visible by the bandage, showed that he was hurt. Wouldn't that be enough, especially if he asked for help, for someone to _help_ him? Even though they didn't know him, didn't these people realize by now that he needed help?

He hesitated, taking another step closer. "Please." His hand reached weakly out in front of him as he shook his head to rid himself of the confusion that he was experiencing. "My family's gone."

The gunman began to worry more. He had three men around him, all of them strangers. For all he knew they could all be together somehow – maybe they knew each other – and be trying to take his supplies. Like the younger of the two men that he found together had said, they _were_ looking for supplies...they'd been traveling for a month apparently too. He doubted it, but how could he be sure? He needed to be careful.

But now, with the third man – the one in the hospital gown – he saw that he had a bandage. Was it a bite? But why was he in full hospital attire? It'd been almost a month since everything had fallen apart...why would he still be wearing that? He shook off that thought. It didn't matter. He had to be careful...do what needed to be done.

"Hey!" He called out at the wounded man, raising his brows at him. "What's that bandage for? What kind of wound?"

The man from the hospital shuffled on his feet again. He just didn't understand why that was so important. He wouldn't understand, not unless they told him, or unless he found out himself, which probably wouldn't end well for him.

He was confused by the question, frustrated that they wouldn't just help him. "Please, I need to find my family."

Rob can clearly see now that this man has no idea of what's been going on in the world. A month into this hell and this guy doesn't understand anything. But how? How is that possible? An entire month?

He exchanged a confused, yet cautious look with Jack. He knew that Jack realized just as he did that somehow this man had managed to stay inside the hospital since before anything had occurred. They didn't understand how that could even be possible, but what other explanation was there?

Rob turned back to the gunman. "We can help him." He pushed it on the guy who still aimed his revolver at them, though now it shook slightly as it dipped a bit lower towards the ground.

"Please, I need help. My family...please." The hospital man began to plead as he began to walk closer again.

The gunman tensed his jaw, trying desperately to decide what the right thing to do was. The three men felt as if they were closing in around him. He needed to take charge. He needed to think about Duane; protect him. No one else mattered. Only Duane.

Just then, Jack moved to the side, turning suddenly to face the wounded man as he began to speak. "He needs help. We can –"

The gunman jumped back on his feet, giving himself more space from the two men in front of him. He threw his arm out in front of him, aiming his revolver steadily at the two men and then waving it toward the man from the hospital, stopping him from pleading or coming any closer.

He looked back at the two men. "I told you not to move!"

Rob and Jack flinched, their hands raising up in surrender.

"I-I just..." Jack began.

"You keep your mouth closed and you stay put! The both of ya." The gunman turned and aimed his revolver at the man in the hospital gown. "You. I told you not to come any closer!"

The wounded man took a few steps backward this time, before stopping completely. He just stood there staring at the man with the gun. The gun was pointed at him now. He was shocked and didn't quite understand what was happening. His hands raised up in the air showing surrender, but he held the man's eye contact. He was scared, but he knew enough to hold the gunman's stare.

All he could think about was how he really didn't need another gunshot wound...not now.

The gunman looked back at Rob and Jack, making sure they knew he was still watching them, then returned his attention to the man from the hospital. "I will not ask again. That wound..." He motioned at the man with his revolver, causing him to flinch. " _Did_ _you get bit_?"

The wounded man just stood there, confused by everything that was going on. He just couldn't figure out why the man kept asking that. If this man wasn't going to help, then he should probably just leave. He clearly wasn't in the best state of mind, or so it seemed. He'd tried enough to get help from this man. He had to leave...go find his wife and son. He needed to find them.

Not knowing what to say, and ready to just walk away at this point, the wounded man stood in place, still staring at the gunman, nervous to move at all while the revolver was pointed in his direction.

"You tell me." The gunman began again, cocking the hammer of his revolver back, showing his apparent intent. "Or I _will_ shoot."

No more than a few tense seconds passed by in silence – mostly tense for the hospital man, having that revolver aimed at him from such close range and being threatened – before a single shot rang out.

At first the wounded man from the hospital had thought that the gunman had pulled the trigger and that he'd been shot, but there was no pain that followed. So too did Rob and Jack, flinching at the gunshot, their stomachs dropping as they immediately thought that the gunman had, in fact, killed this man – the man that they had been trying to catch up with since the hospital.

But the gunman holding the revolver tightly in his hand, still pointing it at the man from the hospital, he knew that he hadn't pulled that trigger.

He stood there, confused. Hearing a heavy thud behind him, he turned his head around and looked down at the concrete to find that one of the creatures had fallen to the ground no more than ten feet from where he stood, its thick blood creating a puddle around its skull.

No one had heard the corpse or seen it with the situation that they had all been dealing with. Their minds were all to busy. But the question in the gunman's mind was a simple one. Who had shot it?

His eyes followed the road down the street and he searched the sidewalks and front yards, but he was unable to see anything. There were obviously others around. Others that these two men must have known; did know. There had to be. This must've been some kind of a trap after all, or so it seemed to him.

The gunman spun around, refocusing the revolver at Jack and Rob. He stared at them intently, his eyes widening. He was angry, scared, nervous. His eyes flew to the side to where the wounded man still stood with his hands raised in front of him. From his face, it was clear that he was shocked, staring down at the body of the corpse that had fallen to the concrete. The fact that he was so entranced by what had just happened didn't quite add up to the gunman. Something wasn't right about that man, but he clearly wasn't with the other two. He wasn't a threat.

With that thought the gunman looked around him again. He eyed the houses on each side of the road, eyed the bushes and the trees that lined the sidewalk, making sure there was no one out there that he could see. He couldn't see a single soul from where he stood, but he knew that they were just hiding. He knew it. Someone was out there watching.

He turned back to the two men again. He lifted the gun and stepped in closer to them, completely forgetting about the other man from the hospital by this point.

"Who fired that shot?" He demanded, his voice raising at the two men as he moved in closer to them. Both Rob and Jack took a step back, but stopped as they realized the man was just moving with them. Their hands flew up in front of them in surrender. "Who shot that walker? Who else is out there?"

If they had said that in that moment they weren't scared, they would have been lying. The man was angry, on edge, had a gun to their faces...probably thought that they had had something planned in order to try and steal his supplies or something like that.

Rob quickly glanced over at Jack, clearly worried for their safety now. He breathed in deeply and looked back at the gunman. "Hey, sir...just hear us out." He began, pushing his hands out in front of him in a calming sort of motion. "This is _not_ what you think it is. Listen, we –"

"And _what_ is it I think this is?" The gunman asked. "What d'you think this looks like?"

Jack opened his mouth. He had to try to help Rob, try to help in order to get themselves out of this. "We...we just came here to look for supplies, just...just like we said before. We were never gonna –" Jack was cut off before he could finish.

"Never gonna what?" The gunman asked forcefully. "Never gonna attack me? Never gonna steal from me?" He inched closer with each accusing question.

"No, we...we..." Jack stumbled over his words, struggling to think of the right thing to say.

"No!" Rob answered for Jack, almost to the point of pleading with the man. "We were never gonna –" The gunman cut him off again.

"I want whoever else is with you," he pointed behind himself at the empty street, "whoever's waiting out there, to come out. Now!" The gunman demanded.

Both Rob and Jack looked a bit confused, yet very guilty at the same time. They didn't want this man knowing the others were with them. They didn't want to put the others in danger. But this man was freaking out and after the corpse that one of the others had taken out, he knew they were there. He didn't know how many, but he knew.

Rob was just about ready to fully plead with this man, if that would even work to do anything for them. Clearly it didn't do anything for the man from the hospital. The man had lost his family. He was lost, confused. He – Wait!

The man from the hospital. Was he still behind them? Was the gunman still watching him? Rob wanted to turn around to look, but he couldn't turn away from this gunman. He didn't want to move. Especially while this guy was staring so intently at them, trying to fully figure them out. He wanted the others to come out. He was on the edge and Rob couldn't risk anything. For all he knew, this man could pull that trigger at any time, in which it'd all be over.

The gunman took another step towards them, pushing the gun even closer toward their faces, and repeated his demand. "Now!" They didn't move. The gunman looked between them, holding his stare on Rob. Rob did the same. It was as if they were both sizing each other up, trying to figure out what was going on in the other's head. That's when the gunman had a new idea.

He watched Jack glancing at Rob nervously, as if waiting to know what to do next, as if Rob knew the answer to their problems. That was it. He looked to Rob; followed him. Realizing this, the gunman took a route that he was extremely uncomfortable with, but knew he had to do. He didn't see any other option at this point. He pointed the gun away from Rob and aimed it at Jack. He moved in even closer, standing at the younger man's side, pressing the barrel of his revolver against the side of his head.

If anything, the gunman figured they'd assume that he'd point the gun at Rob if he decided to point it at anyone, individually. He knew Rob was trying to read him, and if he was, he knew that Rob thought that he'd think that Rob was the one in charge. But the younger man, he followed him, looked up to Rob. Why not make the man in charge feel guilty, having someone he's trying to protect be put in danger if he didn't cooperate.

Rob's eyes immediately widened, his arms beginning to reach out toward the gunman as he held the barrel of the revolver roughly against Jack's head. "No, no, no...please. Don't."

The gunman's eyes gave Rob the feeling that he wasn't comfortable doing this, but he needed to. Regardless of who this guy was or what he really wanted to do, Rob wasn't gonna test him. The man stared at Rob, his eyes wide open, his nostrils flaring. "Don't test me." The hammer was already cocked back from earlier in the confrontation.

Rob held the man's gaze. He understood. This man was probably doing this to make sure he kept someone else safe. Someone he likely cared about. Rob assumed that to be the reason, but truthfully he had no idea. He had no idea if this man would actually pull the trigger and he wasn't about to wait and find out. Not with someone's – who he cared about – life on the line.

He looked at Jack. The younger man's eyes were shut tightly. His hands were shaking slightly as he still held them in the air in surrender mode. His shoulders were hunched as he anticipated the shot from the gun being pushed against his head.

Rob let out a heavy breath and sighed. His head dropped a little, his eyes closing tightly as he spoke. "Okay." His hands pumped the air in front of him. "Alright." He looked up, his eyes meeting the gunman's again, swearing he saw some relief in his eyes.

Lifting his hand into the air he turned his head to wave the others over. But looking back at the street he realized that he didn't have to wave them over. They were already walking slowly, making their way over to where Rob and Jack stood with the gunman. MJ looked even more terrified than usual. Sara seemed angry as she helped Preston, who was clearly in some pain, as they walked closely behind the boy.

The gunman turned his head to look and saw the others – who he had assumed were out there – walking down the street in his direction. Except, who he expected to see wasn't actually who he saw. Seeing the three of them approaching, he immediately felt awful; his guilt building inside of him.

It was a kid. A kid, a woman, and an older looking man with a hurt leg. The gunman watched them; watched as the kid approached, the others close behind. The boy's eyes were wide and glued onto the man who the gunman had just threatened to shoot.

He lowered his gun. " _Just a kid,_ " the gunman thought. He scoffed at himself and felt awful for the stupidity of his most recent moves. He looked around him, and began to step to the side so that the five of them were all in front of him. He gave a defeated, subtle nod to Rob, who immediately waved Jack over to him. Jack had looked back at the gunman as he went, their eyes meeting briefly, but seeing a much softer look to the man this time.

The gunman uncocked his revolver, but still held it in front of him at a lower point. He didn't have it aimed at anyone anymore. He just stood there, observing these people. The woman was helping the older looking man who seemed to have a hurt leg. He was clearly in some pain. But the part that affected him most, the part that made him scold himself on the inside, was seeing that boy. He wasn't much older than his son was. But when he watched him rush in and hug the younger man who he had just recently held a gun to, his heart sank. He hated himself for his recent actions. He was clearly wrong for thinking he had no choice but to assume the worst of anyone new who he ran into. That clearly wasn't the case with these people, and he could see that now.

They were all in front of him now. The boy had finished hugging his...brother? The man was too young to be his father. The gunman exhaled. His head dropped forward a bit, his hand loosening its grip around the revolver's handle as his arm fell limp at his side. With his other hand reached up and rubbed at his sweaty forehead.

He looked up again at them all. It had to have been them who had taken the shot. They had taken out that corpse that had been sneaking up behind him, unnoticed by himself or the others with him at the time. Thinking about it now, it was clear that they might've actually saved his life. It was clear that they had, but he realized that the intent must've actually been – the complete opposite of what he had initially thought – solely for that purpose. It hadn't been some kind of a trick. It hadn't been a missed shot that had been meant to target him, but it had solely been meant to protect him and keep him from getting attacked by that corpse.

He looked at the gun holstered at the older man's waist. It was being held in place only by his pants. This man had been the one who saved him. He'd have to repay him somehow.

He was about to speak to them – what he was going to say to them he wasn't sure, but he was about to speak to them. Apologize to them maybe. Apologize for the stupidity of what he had just put them through, tell them how he was just being careful and trying to protect his son. But before he could say any of that he heard a metal pang. That sound was then followed by a heavy thud from behind all of them. As he turned to look, he knew the others were doing the same, some of them looking with wide eyes once they saw whatever it was. Then, as he turned he heard it. His son calling to him.

"Daddy! Daddy!" Duane called out to his father.

" _Duane_." The gunman thought to himself as he saw his son standing over the body of a man, holding a shovel close against his own chest. But that wasn't just a man, or a corpse for that matter. That was the man from the hospital. The man that had been pleading with him for help. Duane had hit him with the shovel.

"Shit." The gunman whispered to himself. He closed his eyes tightly and tilted his head to the side. Now he had this man, wounded and confused, on his conscience too.

Opening his eyes again, they immediately met Rob's. His were surprised. Surprised by the fact that the man from the hospital had been taken out by a boy with a shovel. Surprised to find out, from the boy's words that he had called out, that this gunman was his father. But mostly surprised, unknown to the gunman, that his assumptions were right.

Rob's assumptions were right. This man had just been trying to protect someone he cared about dearly. Protect his son from anyone else in this world. And, in a world like this, he didn't blame him at all. Sure he was angry at having the man threaten the life of Jack, but he understood the drive behind the man's actions now, understood what he did and what he was living for now as he held the gunman's gaze with his own surprised stare once again.

 **** Author's Note -** Thanks to everyone who is and will be reading this! Feel free to write any feedback and/or constructive criticism you might have and if you're enjoying the story so far, please comment/follow/favorite. I hope everyone is enjoying this re imagining of the story!

 ******* So, that's the initial meeting between Rick, Morgan, Duane, and this group. Obviously, its not over, but I had to break it up somewhere that fit well. Again, hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I'll get the next one out as soon as I can. Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

_**Surviving Our Extinction**_

 _ **Chapter Six**_

Once the gunman had begun arguing with the two men – after an unknown gunshot had taken someone out on the street – Rick had been put into a state of complete shock. He had been so sure that he had just witnessed the cold-blooded murder of a human being, and the worst part about it had been how none of the others around him had really seemed to care. It was so strange; so upsetting to see how everyone there had acted as if nothing had happened, and it was not sitting well with Rick in the slightest. In fact, they had all seemed somewhat relieved when that person had fallen to the ground, dead.

Rick watched as they continued to argue, the gunman raising his revolver and pointing it straight in the faces of the other two men. The gunman doing this in the same way he had held it up at Rick moments earlier all because Rick had been confused and unable to answer the question about the cause of his wound.

Asking him if he had been bitten. What did that even mean? What kind of question was that to be asking, and why did his wound carry such importance to this crazed man who he had never even seen before?

That must have been what it was. The man must be crazy.

Rick knew that if he wanted to find help he'd have to look elsewhere. And he needed help. He needed clothes, water, maybe a little food. Not to mention information...some kind of explanation as to what was going on. And most importantly in his mind, he needed to find out where his family may have gone to. He should have never asked this insane man to begin with. It was a pretty obvious mistake to him now after already having done so.

He needed to leave; to get away from them and find someone else.

He began to back up onto the sidewalk. He had gotten too close to the gunman as he had begged for help, barely reaching the street and stopping on the curb. Had he gone any closer he probably would have gotten himself shot, maybe even killed.

He watched as the gunman continued to threaten the other two men, walking up closer and pressing the barrel of his revolver against one of their heads. But why? What had been the cause of this altercation?

"This is insane." Rick mumbled to himself.

He continued to move back, slowly closing the distance between himself and his empty house. He kept an eye on the situation unfolding ahead of him and, to his amazement, watched as the gunman began to lower his defenses. The gun dropping, now being held at the gunman's side as he looked out at the street around him. His eyes focusing on something, down past the two men in front of him. Following the gunman's focus with his own eyes, Rick caught the movement of three more people approaching, cautiously walking toward the others from wherever they had appeared from. A man, a woman, and a young boy.

Just like his own family. Rick thought to himself.

He had no idea if these three people were a family, but it only made his focus of finding his own that much stronger. That's what he needed to do. That's what was most important to him. Finding his family. He had to go.

More people showing up was not what Rick needed either. Especially not if they were connected to any of the men he had already stumbled across – the ones who had now, seemingly finished their argument on the street in front of him. The tension having fizzled out just as quickly as it had probably formed.

As the trio approached the others, and while the gunman remained distracted – clearly fighting some internal battle from what Rick could tell – Rick decided that this would be his best opportunity to sneak away. He needed to make his exit without anyone noticing.

He continued to retreat further, picking up a bit more speed this time.

Getting closer to his house, his mind began to wander to what he'd have to do next, trying to formulate some kind of a plan in his head. He'd have to try to find out more on what was going on, find a change of clothes, find someone else to help him out. He had to find Lori and Carl. That was all that mattered right now. He didn't care how he found them, just as long as he found them, alive and safe.

Crossing his front lawn he began to hear soft footsteps approaching from behind. They had sounded out of nowhere, seeming to be very close. Without fully thinking things through, mostly due to his eagerness for a new, better chance at finding help, he turned around to see who was approaching him. Though he didn't take into account how close he still was to the others. That this person would almost certainly be with them. And even if they weren't, the others would most likely notice them before they would be able to slip away...if they even agreed to help.

So without any hesitation or thought, Rick had spun around, and once he had there was no time to regret the decision.

Something cold slammed against his face. His head bouncing back as he fell to the ground, landing hard on his back. Not a bad fall compared to falling down onto concrete, but still a rough fall for an already wounded, weak man who had just now endured a solid hit to the face.

He tried to get past the pain; tried to focus, but he couldn't. What had just hit him?

His vision blurred in and out as his hearing began to fade. His ears flooding with a high-pitched ring as he managed to open his eyes despite the sensitivity to the sun shining down in his face.

He could make out a shadow against the bright blue sky. A figure stood over him, holding a large object in their hands. But Rick was fading out. He could barely keep his focus.

In the next moment, his vision seemed to clear up temporarily, despite everything else still fading. He was amazed at what he was seeing– or what he thought he was seeing – in that moment. He was looking up at Carl, and he was so sure that his son had somehow found him after his darkest hour.

Rick reached out with his arm from his vulnerable position of lying flat on the grass. Everything was fading out and fast. His vision lasting a little longer than everything else as he tried to reach out to his son. Though, he didn't hear the boy calling out as he stared up at him, so certain that he was looking at Carl.

"Daddy! Daddy!" The young boy's voice yelled out, not registering with Rick.

Rick tried to blink away the haze that slowly began to surround him as he started to struggle to see the figure standing over him. "Carl." He barely managed a whisper. "I found you."

Then, the sun's rays were blocked out as another figure came to stand over him. This one larger than the first. A man?

But Rick couldn't manage to think anymore. His vision blurred and his hearing was now gone. Not a moment later his head fell back, and he was out.

* * *

"Daddy! Daddy!" Duane's voice rang out through the street. "I got this sum bitch. Im'a smack 'im dead!"

The gunman turned around toward his son, seeing him standing over the man from the hospital, holding a shovel close to his chest. "Shit." He muttered out loud to himself.

He turned back around, his eyes locking with the man he had just met, the man who he had assumed to be the leader of this small group. He shook his head and turned toward his son, taking a few steps in that direction before stopping briefly and turning back to the strangers again. "You just stay put." He motioned with his hand – the one without the revolver – toward the strangers, his eyebrows raising to assist in expressing the solemnity of his order. Then, after the slightest of hesitations, he jogged away from them and over to his son.

Once his back was facing them, Sara didn't hesitate to attempt to reach out for the gun at Preston's waist. But before her fingertips could brush against it, Rob's hand had shot out, grabbing hold of her wrist firmly.

Immediately she looked up at Rob, seeing the anger burning in his eyes. Her own frustration with him had only been intensifying as of late and this just pissed her off even more, leading to full-on anger toward him and, now, between them both. He was stopping her from making what she thought to be the right call.

Preston's head shot back, his chin pushing down against his chest due to the sudden confrontation on either side of him. He looked down, realizing that his gun was the focus of the intense disagreement.

He glanced up between the two of them as they stared at one another, anger in each of their eyes, burning solely for the other. He took a slow, painful step back, suppressing his natural urge to wince due to the pain radiating through his wounded leg, and held his hand over the weapon at his waist. No one was touching the gun, especially neither one of the two people who were squaring off in front of him.

Sara glared hard at Rob. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" She whispered harshly.

"The hell am I doing?" He shot back. His eyes were thin, his brows lowered as he glared right back. Anger toward her that he was desperately trying to hold the reigns of. "What? You plannin' on shootin' him in the back?" He leaned in closer to her, his voice becoming even quieter now. "You gonna kill that man? Just like that?"

There was a pause between them while they continued to stare each other down. "Yes." She responded, finally, although Rob could tell she wasn't quite as sure sounding in her response as she had probably wanted to be. Her eyes flew over to the gunman, as he stood with who they assumed to be his son, looking down at the man from the hospital. The man who his son had knocked unconscious with a shovel hit to the face. A man that they had been searching for, going out of their way to follow and track down.

She held back the comment that came to mind, ignoring the fuel it provided for her anger. She swallowed hard. "We have to kill him. This is our chance." Another pause followed. Though, there were no words from Rob or anyone else in response to what she was saying. "We keep each other safe, right?" She tried to get her way of thinking across to them, but still, she received no response.

She stepped in closer to Rob who had, by then, backed away from her a bit, causing Preston to take another painful step back. This time he couldn't hold in the wince, his leg burning due to his wound.

His pained expression and self-calming exhale caused the others to look his way. Sara's eyes softened momentarily as she looked to check on Preston, before hardening up once more when she returned her focus back to Rob.

"Tell me, Rob. Tell me I'm wrong about this." She wanted to push him to tell her that she was wrong. Her voice a bit gentler now after seeing Preston in pain. She knew she couldn't be wrong about this. This man had just threatened their lives; held a gun to Jack's head.

Rob just glanced over at her before turning to look back in the direction of the assumed pair of father and son. He seemed to be in thought, but then took a step closer to Sara, closing the gap between them. His frustration towards her obvious in his face as his eyes remained squinted. The others could feel the tension in the air between two people who refused to back down from each other. Neither accepting defeat in this argument, whether or not they were indeed wrong.

MJ stood to the side with his brother, his eyes nervously watching, jumping between Rob and Sara. Jack's hand landed on his brother's shoulder, and when MJ looked up, his eyes met Jack's. A small, forced smile met him, followed by a subtle shake of Jack's head to tell MJ not to pay attention to the argument. No words were spoken as they turned away, now watching the strangers over on the front lawn. The gunman, along with his son, still standing over the unconscious man from the hospital. The gunman's eyes searching the area around them for movement; Jack could tell.

Behind Jack and MJ, Rob didn't flinch. He was too angry at this point to do anything but keep himself from freaking out at Sara. So he focused on keeping himself in control of his emotions as he spoke back to her. "No, Sara. You're right on that...we keep each other safe." He cocked his head to the side and exhaled, his eyes looking at the houses in the background before refocusing on her. "But you're wrong about that decision you seem too eager to carry out." Her eyes grew thin as she took in a deep, frustrated breath. "You were gonna," he turned to make sure the man was still far enough away from them with his son, "you were gonna kill that man?" He pointed quickly, dropping his arm so no one would see aside from Sara. "What kind of call is that?"

"A good call because it keeps us safe." She shot back almost immediately. Almost too quickly. "A better one than you made with following that man down here in the first place...putting us all in potential danger from doing something that we didn't even need to be doing!"

Rob's anger was reignited to a new level when she brought up his "bad" call yet again. He wanted to lash out then and there, scream at her; scare her, but he knew he couldn't. He closed his eyes tightly as he struggled to take in a deep, calming breath. His eyes opened again to her deathly stare. "It's not the right call." He stated simply, his voice in a much calmer tone now.

Sara was furious. She looked away, trying to maintain her own frustrations, swaying lightly on her feet. Her eyes landed on the man and his son still over on the lawn. They were speaking together quietly, causing her to wonder what it was they might be speaking about, and fueling her thoughts that they were threats to her group.

The man would look back at them every few seconds, although only to look out, down the length of the street. It seemed almost as though he was fighting some internal battle. Just like she was. She turned back to Rob, about to speak her mind again, but before she was able to even make a sound she was cut off.

"Sara..." The firmness in Jack's voice caught her's as well as everyone else's attention. He turned to look over at her, his head tilted slightly forward, his eyebrows slightly raised. He breathed in deeply and exhaled. He'd heard enough.

Looking back, he checked to see that the man and his son were still far enough away not to hear them speaking. He closed his eyes. He was tired; they all were. "Rob is right." He looked over at Rob, an unspoken thanks passing between the two men.

Sara breathed deeply trying to keep herself calm. She shook her head. "Jack, no. He's..." she looked between them, "he's not –"

"He is." Jack cut her off again. "Look, I'm pissed at the guy too. I am. But don't hold what he did against him." He checked back again to see that the man was still with his son. "Look...just look at the guy." Jack motioned his head toward the man. "He has a son."

There was a pause. Jack waited to see if Sara would try to say anything else. His hand tightening on MJ's shoulder without even realizing he was doing so as he anticipated Sara's response and thought of why the man had likely acted the way he did.

Sara's features suddenly became more relaxed. The wheels were spinning in her head from what he had just said. He could tell that much.

Jack continued. "I know you're angry at the guy for threatening us. Like I said, so am I. He held a gun to my head for Christ's sake, okay? I wouldn't usually just let something like that go." He checked on the man again. Still good.

"When he lowered his gun...I saw the regret on his face. I guarantee you he knows now that he made the wrong choice, but he was only thinking and doing that for his son. He was trying to keep him safe; his family...who he loves. Isn't that the same thing that we're trying to do?" He paused to let what he had said sink in.

Looking between Rob and Sara, he continued. "I know you both are trying to do the same thing. Neither one of you will let anything happen to any of us if you can help it. I get that, and I'm incredibly grateful. We all are, and we'd all do the same. But it's pretty obvious that you two are having problems agreeing on what calls are the right calls to make." He breathed out, turned to check the man, and saw him beginning to move away from his son, which meant he was coming back. "Look, the man was thinking the same thing that we do when we make our own calls. Safety of those we care about. For that, let this one go...give him a chance." Jack took a step back, speaking more softly as he finished saying what needed to be said. "Rob's right on this one. You can't just decide that easily to kill someone. But you two, you guys need to cut this fighting shit out."

Sara stayed quiet, as did Rob. Both of them thinking over what Jack had just said to them...about their own thinking.

They all remained silent as the man walked back over to them. MJ, Jack, even Preston who was deep in his own thoughts. Jack's little speech having just as much of an effect on him as it had on Rob and Sara.

Though Preston had a different reason to listen to what Jack had been saying. Maybe a better reason than anyone else. Yes, he understood that that man had just been trying to keep his son safe. That's exactly what they all were trying to do. Jack was absolutely right. Their group...maybe they weren't family like this man and his son were. They weren't related, aside from Jack and MJ, but they were family nonetheless.

Together, they had been through too much in the past month. They'd survived together when everyone else around them had fallen. This past month, since this hell on Earth had begun, they'd all been each other's driving forces to survive. To continue on and to get through whatever came next. They'd do anything for each other at this point to keep each other safe...alive. They were each other's family now. They were all they had.

Preston knew what he needed to do. As much as he didn't want to, as much as he was scared to. The finality that it would bring frightened him because he knew what happened next. Like anyone else he was scared, but he couldn't put his new family in danger because of his own fear. He couldn't allow himself to do that...he'd never forgive himself for it.

He knew what he needed to do, but finding the best time to do it would prove difficult at best.

Footsteps grew closer, breaking through Preston's thoughts and gaining all of their attention. The gunman walked up in front of them, his son still standing as a sort of guard over the hospital man, who was still out cold on the lawn.

The man's eyes danced between the strangers in front of him. He turned back toward his son, always needing to keep an eye on him if he wasn't safely inside. Turning back, he looked out at the street in front of him – behind the strangers – before he met their concerned gazes.

He had noticed the dead wandering up the road, in their direction, coming over from the other streets. Taking out that lone walker. That's what must've attracted them. The shot that was fired. Thankfully though, that walker hadn't taken him out. He had the older man to thank for that.

Dusk was closing in on them though, the sun about to set. With the night, more of the walking corpses would be showing up, no doubt heading toward that gunshot; toward all of them. As if that had been some kind of dinner bell ringing for the dead, and these strangers, along with his son and himself were the meals. He needed to get indoors quickly, make sure his son was safe, take this unconscious man inside and keep these new people alive. Lots to do, and looking down the street at the distant figures appearing told him that there wasn't much time to get things done.

Wiping the palm of his hand over his mouth, the man exhaled and slid his revolver in place at the front of his pants. Looking up he nodded at the strangers as he kept tabs on the figures in the distance. His eyes landed on Rob and he began to speak to him – the man that he believed to be in charge.

"We don't have much time. That gunshot will be drawin' them from all over. Best not be stuck out here come nightfall." He took a look around at all of their faces again, the urgency to get off the street and somewhere safer clearly showing on his own face. Nodding to Preston, he paused. "Thank you for...well, for savin' my life. I owe you for that." He smiled after motioning to the gun at Preston's waist. "You didn't have to do that, but ya did. I ain't gonna be forgettin' about that one anytime soon."

Preston gave him a weak smile in return, pushing himself to ignore the growing pain in his leg.

Sara reached over to him, allowing the older man to lean on her for support helping him to stay on his feet. She was able to tell that he was in pain, even if he was able to hide it well enough from the others.

The gunman breathed in deeply and looked out at the street behind them again. "It was a mistake the way I acted. I know that. That's not something I would usually do, but you gotta understand, lately I...I've just seen some rough looking people come through here and they didn't seem to be the friendly type. But I've seen enough bad folk since the start. I'm sure y'all have too. Luckily I haven't had to deal with them though, and I'm so very thankful for that. As you can see," he turned, motioning back toward his son, tilting his head in the boy's direction, "I do have a son. He's my priority now. Keepin' him safe, keepin' him alive." He paused once more, looking down at the ground between his feet. "I hope you can understand my actions toward you folks before. I know it doesn't make anything right about it, but at least you know why I acted the way I did. For my boy."

There was a short pause before the momentary silence was broken by Rob. "We understand." He nodded glancing back at the rest of the group. "I can't say we're okay with it," his expression along with his voice was firm, but understanding; forgiving, as he turned back to the man. "But we do understand."

The man nodded, responding with a weak smile.

"Can't say we wouldn't have done the same in your position, though." Jack's voice came from behind Rob. He stared intently at the man, but his eyes revealed a softness.

"I'm sorry for that. Truly." The man apologized again. Jack nodding in response, looking down at his little brother standing beside him. He accepted it. He understood the man's position now. Knew why he had done it.

"I'm just glad you didn't finish what you began." His eyes stayed focused on the ground before looking up at the man again, a bit of a smirk forming as he scoffed out a laugh. "But I get it." Jack smiled genuinely this time.

"From what I can tell, which isn't much, you do seem like good people." The man replied, holding eye contact with Jack a bit longer before looking them all over again briefly. "Didn't kill me after all."

Rob couldn't help but scoff to himself at that comment, thinking of what Sara had been ready to do.

Preston took in a quick, sharp breath as he accidentally let some of his weight fall onto his wounded leg. Adjusting her arm around him, Sara watched while he gained the attention and worried looks of the others around him, including herself. Clearly, the severity of his wound was becoming more of a concern now. The "others" included the man speaking to them; the gunman, who was just as curious as worried, but still wanting to help.

"He hurt?" the man asked, his brows raised in concern. A nod of the head from Sara was his answer. "Looks like he could use some rest...some medical attention."

"We've been trying to find supplies for him all day." Sara responded without looking away from the wounded Preston.

"I could have a look at it, fix it up some for him." The man offered.

"If you could we'd be extremely grateful for it." Rob replied, accepting the offer.

The man looked from Rob and back over to Preston. "Mind if I take a quick look at it?" He began to walk toward Preston without waiting to receive an answer.

Both Sara and Preston looked up quickly as the man moved in closer to them. "He should really be sitting down. Ya know, somewhere safer...off the street." Sara had spoken off the top of her head with whatever reason she could think of to keep anyone, especially this new man, from looking at Preston's wound at that moment. She had felt Preston tense up as the man took a step towards them; knew he was scared of revealing it. He didn't want them to know just yet. Not then, not there.

Preston seemed nervous and Sara uneasy to the others. Unusually so. The two of them clearly on edge. It was very noticeable at that moment, causing Rob, Jack, and MJ to grow a bit confused and curious. An unknowing glance between Rob and Jack had them each knowing that the other was on the same page. They were left to wonder what the reason was that caused that kind of reaction from those two after a kind offer was made by this new stranger.

The man's hands had gone up in surrender immediately, but slowly, after Sara had replied. He gave them an understanding, tight-lipped smile before he spoke in a calm voice. "Sure. Sure, that sounds like a good idea." He took another glance behind them, checking on the corpses still making their way toward them, but realized that the group, thankfully, still had a good amount of time before they'd catch up. "I have a house we're staying in down the street." He pointed a few houses down. "Y'all are welcomed to come inside, but uh," he hesitated momentarily, thinking something over in his head. "I'm gonna have to ask you for your guns first. We'll all be inside together...including my son and I just can't take that chance." He gave them a look like he was uncomfortable in asking, especially after his own, personal introduction to them only less than 10 minutes earlier. His guilt from the way he had acted was clear on his face, as they all looked back at him with a mixture of different looks. Disbelief, anger, understanding, caution...it was all there sitting on their faces as their expressions were just as clear as the gunman's guilt was on his own face.

"You've gotta be kidding me. After what you did?!" Sara shot back. The gunman accepted the harsh response, listening and looking back timidly. He pretty much expected that to be the answer he'd receive.

Rob stared back at him again after giving Sara a more than annoyed look to be quiet. He squared the new stranger up but kept his distance. "You won't try anything on us?"

The man held his stare. After looking between the five of them he chuckled lightly, slightly amused as he answered the question. "No...and even if I wanted to, it's five against one. Would not be a good move to make on my part."

"Two." Sara corrected, looking past him and over at his son. "Five against two."

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess." The man nodded, glancing back in his son's direction. "Again, not a good move to make on our part. But you really think I'm willing to put my son in danger? After what I just told you?" The smile from his initial response had completely faded from his face now. "No. No, I'm not. All that matters to me is his safety, and I am not about to put that at risk. I am not gonna try anythang." He breathed in deeply as he looked between them again. Moving his head to the side to see past them, he saw the dead starting to get closer than he was comfortable with. "Whether you trust me or not, I think it's your best option. You don't know the area and it's almost dark out. Ya friend's hurt and you got a boy with ya. You don't wanna risk being stuck out here at night." Rob knew the man was right, and he knew that last part wasn't any kind of a threat, but just an honest opinion. One they all shared. "We don't have much time neither." The man added, once again raising his brows and pointing behind them.

They all turned, finding a dozen or so corpses slowly moving up the street in their direction, still a good distance away, but close enough for them to know that they had to move soon. They needed to get off of the street and that meant trusting, or at least accepting this man's offer.

Rob looked around at the others who were standing there with him. MJ beginning to worry, and Jack holding onto his brother's shoulders from behind as he waited for Rob's call. The younger man trusting in him just like he had said, as did Preston, who was waiting as well. The older man's eyes not moving from Rob as he nodded subtly. And Sara, still with an angry expression on her face, her brows low, her eyes purposely avoiding as much contact with Rob as possible.

Rob knew the right call, knew they trusted him, aside from Sara at the moment, but she would just have to accept his decision this time. A decision that she likely realized was the best option for them. Because this was the only one that was good for everyone, or as good as it could get. It was the one that kept them all alive.

Rob reached over, giving Preston a look of permission to take his gun. The older man nodded, still a little hesitant, but allowing Rob to take it from him. Next, Jack handed him his gun as well, before Rob pulled his own from his waist, holding the three weapons out for the man to take.

Reaching out slowly, he took them from Rob's hands and placed two of them at his waist, unable to hold onto four while keeping one hand free.

"Nothin' else on us, and not much ammo to begin with." Rob informed him, who was still very much a stranger to all of them.

The recent gunman, now holding on to their weapons too, looked up and nodded once as he spoke. "Thank you." He fumbled the two guns in his hand, unsure about the decision just as much as the others were of him. "My name's Morgan." Looking to the rest of the group, he smiled, before turning his focus back on Rob. He held out his free hand between them.

Rob eyed the outstretched hand at first, still doing his best to be cautious. He looked up at the man named Morgan, before reaching out and firmly grabbing his hand. They shook. "Rob. This is Jack and his younger brother MJ." Morgan smiled at them, making sure to say hello to the boy. "And that's Preston and Sara." Rob continued, watching as Morgan finished his individual hellos.

"Let's get you guys inside then. Get that wound checked out." Morgan gave a forced smile and turned back in the direction of his son.

Before they began to move, Rob gave a quick glance to Sara. He half expected her to try something again as Morgan turned his back to them, but she just looked back at him, a mixture of different emotions within her eyes. Rob forced a light smile at her before turning back ahead to follow Morgan.

"Stay close." Morgan led them over to where his son still stood over the unconscious man from the hospital. He made sure to keep an eye on them as he walked out in front. Still had to be cautious, just like Rob had been in shaking his hand a moment earlier. "This is Duane, my son. Duane, this is Rob, Jack, MJ, Sara, and Preston." Morgan introduced them all, motioning his hand toward each of them as he said their names.

Duane looked at them, uncertain of what to say or think. "Hello." He managed, before looking away quickly. He had noticed the corpses coming up the road, now even closer than before. "Daddy, the walkers. They're comin' up the road." He spoke as he gripped his shovel tighter, worry filling his voice.

Morgan looked back at the walkers who had gotten even closer now. Enough with taking their time on explanations and hellos. Everything could wait, because right now they all needed to get the hell off of the road, into the house, and away from the dead that would fill up the street come nightfall.

"Alright, we gotta move this man inside. Can't leave him here to die." Morgan stepped up beside the hospital man's unconscious form. "Gotta check his wounds too." He pointed at the bloodied bandage on the man's torso. "Make sure he's not bit."

"Here, let me help." Rob stepped up by Morgan, on the other side of the wounded man, and helped lift him up.

"Duane," Morgan motioned his head toward the house as he struggled with the dead weight. "Lead them to the house. I'll be right behind you." He instructed his son.

Duane turned immediately, still eyeing the approaching corpses as he did what his father asked. Holding onto his shovel, he led the rest of the group several houses further down to where they had set up inside one of the homes; to where he and his father had been calling their home.

As they approached the house, Jack noted the covered windows. Heavy blankets hung from the inside, covering not just the windows, but the wooden planks that had been hammered in over the window frames. At least the creatures wouldn't be getting in through that. At least they'd be safe inside for the night. Between the darkness and the coverage from the windows, there'd be no way they'd be seen from inside.

Good enough set up for him and the rest of them so far. Much better than constantly being out in the open.

Hell, their camp that they had called home for the past month had been completely vulnerable to attacks from those things. It was amazing that it hadn't happened any sooner than it had. More than three weeks that they spent there before it fell.

It wasn't all due to the dead ones though. There had been enough arguments between people to know things would eventually escalate at that camp, but to imagine that it would have happened the way it did – to that severity...they knew people could still get out of hand; clash with each other, same as they always had. But with the state of the world around them, the fighting and carelessness that had built up to that night was something he thought that he didn't expect they'd have to deal with. Not with such a clear enemy to all of them, just waiting to overtake them.

They were just lucky to be alive, the five of them, but their experience from that camp was always going to be stuck on repeat in their minds.

Jack shook his head from side to side, trying to rid himself of the screams from that night and the memories that went along with them. He smiled at MJ who walked at his side. They had reached the front porch and now waited for Morgan and his son, Duane, to let them inside.

Looking back at Rob as he helped Morgan carry the unconscious man, Jack gave a nod. Rob nodding back in approval of the house after looking at it briefly himself. Looked good enough, at least to spend the night at. Not like they had any other choices though, and they knew that.

Soon enough they were all standing together up on the porch. Duane opened the door in front of them and walked in first. He held the door open and stood to the side while the rest of them entered. MJ followed Jack, almost attached to his side, and Preston and Sara were right behind them. Rob and Morgan carried the man inside last, passing Duane who stood by the open door, glancing outside on his toes to make sure there were no corpses following closely.

"In the back?" Duane asked, looking down at the unconscious man, questioning where his father was planning on putting him.

"Yeah, son." Morgan answered, slightly out of breath from carrying the weight of this guy down the block. "Yeah, back there...on the bed." He stopped, adjusting the man in his arms as he looked at the others that had arrived with them. "If y'all don't mind, you can follow us back here. I'm gonna have to ask ya to sit tight in here for a few moments. I'll take a look at ya leg shortly."

"Sure." Jack gave Morgan a nod. "Is there a chair back there for Preston?" He asked.

"Yeah, there should be one in there." Morgan answered, grunting at the dead weight in his arms. "There's a bed, but I gotta lay this man on there for now."

Morgan motioned his head at the front door, telling Duane to close it over. Then, he led the others into the back room.

He and Rob carefully laid the man down on the single bed in the room. He was still out cold.

Sara chose to stand beside Preston, after helping him down onto the only chair without aggravating his leg any further. Jack took a spot against the wall in the back corner, keeping MJ close at his side. His hand never leaving his little brother's shoulder, doing his best to keep him as relaxed as he could and knowing full well that his brother would be nervous trusting this man after what had happened out on the street. But he knew MJ trusted his decisions even more.

Morgan took in a few deep breaths as he stood beside the bed, stretching his back just a bit. After a moment of silence, he turned to Rob who was standing next to him. "If you don't mind staying here for a moment? I'll be back in a few minutes. I'll check ya friend's leg then," He motioned his arm out at the man they had laid on the bed, "look at this man too. I don't plan to have y'all stay in here all night. I'm just...bein' careful is all. You understand that, don't ya?"

Rob nodded, but noticed the angry face on Sara in his peripheral vision. "Do what you need to do. We'll stay put until you come back." He smiled lightly and patted Morgan on his shoulder.

Morgan gave him a weak smile in return, nodding to Jack who was making sure to pay attention to Morgan as well. "I'll be back in a few minutes." He turned around and walked out of the room slowly. Closing the door over, he made sure to keep it from clicking shut. He looked up at Duane who now stood in front of him. "Are all the windows covered?"

"Yes, sir. I think so." Duane answered.

"Good. Good." Morgan nodded as he looked around the room, his eyes landing on the front door last. He placed the three handguns down on the table, away from the back room, making sure he still kept his revolver on him.

Walking over to the front door, he opened it up slowly. Being cautious as he did, and staying alert to any threats that may have been nearby.

Luckily, there were none in the immediate area as he peeked out of the door. Duane stood at his back, but Morgan held a hand out for his boy to stay put. He checked behind him once to make sure the others were still inside the back room – they were.

Stepping outside, onto the porch, he took a long look out at the street. The figures that he had been keeping tabs on, now in greater numbers, were still wandering down the road, getting closer by the minute. They were headed in their direction.

The sun was already setting. It wouldn't be long until the street was covered in darkness and night was upon them. The smell of rotting flesh most likely accompanying the calmness of the night.

He took in a deep breath, closed his eyes and felt the small, cool evening breeze roll over his face. Fall wasn't a long way off. The heat that they had had to endure this past month was something he was looking forward to not having to deal with along with everything else. Not having air conditioning and all, it was something he just couldn't see himself getting used to.

"Dad?" Duane's voice caused Morgan's eyes to open up again.

"Be right there, son." Morgan answered, taking another look out at the street filling up with walkers. He turned around, his head lowered. One hand rubbed across the top of his head as the other pulled the door shut behind him. As he locked it he heard Duane's voice again from behind.

He was exhausted. After the events from not more than twenty minutes earlier, he felt drained now that all his adrenaline had evaporated from within him. But he still had to be on watch throughout the night. Regardless of if these people seemed like they were okay, he still had to be careful. Twenty minutes or so was not anywhere near long enough to be able to trust anyone, especially in this world.

"Dad?" Duane called to his father again, his voice noticeably weak and on edge.

Turning around, Morgan had picked up on the change in his son's voice. "Duane, you alri–" He cut himself off due to what – or who – he saw standing in the room with Duane.

Rob stood there, uncertainty in his eyes as he knew that he was pushing Morgan's trust by leaving that room. Morgan picked up on his hesitance right away, but would've agreed that Rob was correct in his reason for feeling that way. Morgan didn't want to put these people out on the street, especially knowing that it would be filled up with walkers before long. But they needed to understand that they had been taken in by him and that they needed to listen to what he told them. Otherwise, for the safety of his son, he'd have no choice but to send them on their way.

Morgan gave a quick glance over at the table. The guns were still there. Rob didn't have one. That was a good start.

Rob seeing what he had glanced at, slowly raised his arms up in front of him. A mixture of caution, sadness, and urgency were all mixing together on his face. Morgan wasn't sure what to think. He didn't know what Rob might want, or what he was doing. So he stood there, lowering his brows as he held the other man's nervous stare, waiting for him to say whatever he was going to say.

"Look, I...I know you told me to stay in there. I know, but...I have to talk to you before you go back inside. Something important that I need to explain to you first." Rob did his best to speak calmly to Morgan. His voice shaking a bit, which did not go unnoticed.

Morgan just looked at him and listened. He held his hand out to the side. "Duane, stay behind me. Go sit down at the table."

Duane did as his father asked.

Rob smiled at Duane, trying to ease the tension as much as possible. Even though his eyes were filling up with tears, he made sure to seem as nonthreatening to the boy and his father as he could. He continued to watch as the boy backed away further, cutting across the room behind his father, and sat down at the table where the guns were still where Morgan had placed them.

"What do you need to explain to me?" Morgan asked. His face was firm; stoic, as he waited for Rob to speak. Just in case, he knew he still had his revolver on him and he wasn't far from the guns on the table off to his right in the dining room. He was certainly closer than Rob was, but it was all just precautionary thinking on his part. He knew nothing would happen...but really it was mostly hope.

But as he continued to look at Rob, he could see the growing sadness in his eyes. Something was up. Something with someone in the other room? In his group?

Rob took a step closer and rocked a bit on his feet. He looked up at Morgan.

"Rob, what is it?" Morgan asked again, his voice cautious.

Rob's head dropped and he took in a deep breath before looking back up at Morgan. Their eyes locked on each other. "One of my friends...Preston...the man with the bad leg. The one who saved you...?"

Morgan wasn't sure he was liking where this seemed to be heading. Definitely not after Rob reminded him that Preston had saved his life out on the street, but he still listened.

Rob took another deep breath, wiped a few tears from his eyes. "He's uh," his eyes met Morgan's again after avoiding contact for a few silent moments and regaining his full composure, "he's bit."

Morgan felt his chest tighten up. This is what he had been desperately trying to keep away from his son...definite, clear danger.

* * *

The back room of the house grew very quiet once Morgan had stepped out, closing the door over behind him.

Rob stood by the bed next to the man from the hospital who was still out. Jack and MJ still stood in the back corner of the room, while Preston sat on the single chair, fiddling with his hands. Sara a bit further away from the man than she had been, looking around at the floor anxiously. Both Preston and Sara seemed to be deep in thought about something. From the looks of it, Rob could tell that something wasn't right with them...with Preston's leg.

He felt as though they were hiding something, and as his eyes moved across the room, they landed on the two brothers. Jack still held MJ close to him, his hands on top of the boy's shoulders. Jack's eyes glued to Preston, then jumping over to Sara briefly, noticing the way her arms were wrapped protectively around her torso. Something she had done a few times before, but only when she was nervous.

Rob's eyes met Jack's once again, the same thought clear between the two of them. What was going on with Preston and Sara, because clearly, something wasn't sitting well with either of them.

Jack breathed in deeply, lightly massaging one of MJ's shoulders. His eyes jumped from Rob and back over to Sara. "Hey, Sara?" He called out to her rather gently. "Sara?"

Her head snapped up quickly the second time her name was said, her eyes almost full of unshed tears. She saw Jack and Rob exchange a questioning glance. The two of them both looking very concerned and she knew that it was concern for about her and Preston. She knew it was only a matter of time before they were forced to find out or until they noticed something on their own. Both of them naturally good at picking up on things that most people might not pick up on. But this was just a matter of time before anyone would realize what was wrong.

"Is everything alright?" Jack asked, genuinely concerned. "You seem…" He glanced back at Rob. "You seem worried."

She just looked between the two men. A fake smile doing its best to form across her face as she adjusted herself against the wall. It wasn't up to her to tell them. It was up to Preston who had even asked her not to say anything. Unless he told them, she had to pretend like nothing was wrong. She wouldn't let this get out of hand, but she trusted Preston to say something before it got to that point. Until then, she had to stick to her word to him.

Preston had to tell them at some point. She knew he knew that.

"Yeah...yeah, I'm okay." She said, trying to hide the worry in her voice, but failing.

"You don't seem okay." Rob said, voicing his own opinion. His eyes keeping watch on Preston as they spoke to Sara. The older man clutching his leg, but not lifting his head or giving anything away to provide them with any kind of clues as to what might be wrong.

"I'm fine." Sara repeated. She looked up again after a moment and held Rob's stare. Except this time, it wasn't anger or frustration in her eyes. There was something else. There was worry and a deep sadness. Even though Rob had already suspected her to be lying, the look in her eyes told him something was definitely wrong...more than he may have initially thought.

He looked over again at Jack, MJ at his side, who was now fully aware of the possible magnitude of what might be wrong just as Rob was.

Rob turned to Preston who was still holding onto his leg, deep in his own thoughts.

As he stared at the older man Sara's eyes followed his, becoming increasingly nervous about what had to be brought up soon. And now it looked like it was about to happen.

Rob glanced back at Sara, looking more nervous than suspicious of her. He took a few steps across the room and stopped directly in front of Preston. He looked down at the older man. Preston's head didn't lift at all to look up at Rob though.

Rob took in a deep breath and let it out slowly through his nostrils before speaking softly. "Preston? Is something going on?"

Preston didn't respond at first, but just held his hand tightly over the thigh of his wounded leg, and just kept staring at the ground between his feet.

"Preston, you know you can talk to us. If something's wrong, just tell us." Rob took a step closer. Put his hand on the man's shoulder. "We need to know if something's wrong, Preston. We're all family here."

At that last word, "family", Preston's head dipped even further, his eyes shut tightly, several tears escaping and dripping to the floor below. He looked up at Rob slowly. He knew he was right. He was struggling with this tremendously, but he knew he had to tell them. He couldn't not tell them. They were family and he would put them all in danger if he didn't say anything.

He looked around the room at everyone, managing to give MJ a small, comforting smile through his watery eyes. He saw the concern on brothers' faces. He looked to Sara, saw her looking like she wanted to break down and cry as she looked back at him.

Hell, that'd be a sight. He thought to himself. Not once in the past month, through everything they had all been through together, had any of them seen this woman cry. But, the longer they were all together and the closer they'd become, the more likely that would happen at some point. And it seemed likely that that point had arrived.

He gave her a small nod before turning to face Rob. Sara's hand flew up to cover her mouth once he turned away from her, as her other arm stayed wrapped around her torso. She knew what was coming. The finality of it causing her the most pain having already found out about it. But she couldn't begin to imagine what Preston was feeling.

Preston closed his eyes tightly as he bent over and gripped his pants leg, slowly lifting it up. At that point, Rob knew exactly what Preston was about to show him and everyone else. This had happened enough times in the past for any of them to know what they were being shown before they actually saw. He didn't want to believe it, but he knew it was coming...from Sara's expression especially. Clearly, she must have already known.

Preston lifted the material up, being careful not to rub it against his leg. It was too sensitive at this point for anything to really make contact with it without causing Preston a good amount of pain. He lifted the material just past the wound, exposing it to the rest of them.

An imprint of several teeth marks showed a bite that had unknowingly occurred to them earlier that day. Most of the bleeding being absorbed by his sock or his black pants, allowing for no one to have really noticed it. But by now the bleeding had all but stopped. He looked up at Rob with tear-filled eyes.

"I'm sorry I didn't say anything sooner." Preston fought back tears, shaking his head as he spoke. "I didn't know what to say..."

Rob knelt down, feeling deeply saddened for the older man. He heard the whimpers from behind him, and turned briefly to see MJ burying his head into his brother's chest. Jack just stared on, glassy-eyed, from the news that they had just received. His eyes growing redder by the second, Jack was clearly struggling to keep his composure. Practically forcing himself not to let the tears flow like a waterfall.

Rob and Jack were the only ones not already crying, but it was only a matter of time before they would be too. They wouldn't be able to hold their emotions in for long, but for everyone else, they were trying to keep themselves as calm as possible, for as long as possible.

Rob looked down at the bite mark on Preston's leg. The skin was already beginning to rot away around the actual wound, and Rob couldn't help but cringe – careful not to allow anyone to see his reaction – at the look of the decomposing flesh. Walking around all day on the leg probably only sped up the infection process within Preston's body.

His thoughts broke off there as he looked up at the distressed man, laying a gentle hand back on his shoulder.

"When did it happen, Preston?" He asked softly, understanding what Preston might be going through – everything he was probably thinking.

Preston took in a deep, shaky breath as he fought back his tears. "It was uh...when we...when we left the hospital." He sniffed back his tears. "When they grabbed my leg in the doorway."

Rob looked back down at the wound. He shut his eyes tightly, not wanting to look at it again and fighting his own internal battle over how Preston came to being bitten. He had wanted Preston to leave the hospital first. He had wanted to be the last one out of there. Specifically due to the possibility that something like this would happen. He couldn't help but see this as his own fault. Maybe if he hadn't given in and agreed to go out first so easily, maybe this wouldn't have happened. But then again, they had had so little time then that had he stayed any longer the dead ones would've gotten them both. Right?

Either way, this had happened and he couldn't help but feel fully responsible for it. Like he let the man down.

He only wanted to keep these people – who he viewed as his only family now – alive. But with this...he felt like he had failed.

"I'm sorry." Preston whispered softly through his tears. "I'm sorry I kept this from you until now. I just...I didn't know how to say it. And with Morgan out there...I couldn't bring...I couldn't bring this up."

Rob's grip tightened on the man's shoulder and he lifted his head back up. He gave the man an inconsolable smile, and moved his hand to the back of his neck, pulling him in just a bit so their foreheads were close together. "You don't have to be sorry Preston. You didn't do anything wrong."

Sara stepped in closer as Rob stood back up after having given the older man one last squeeze on the back of his neck. He looked at her, gave her the same sort of sad smile he had just given Preston.

"What do we tell...what's his name? Morgan?" Jack asked, voicing the same question they were all thinking. "He'll be coming back. We can't have him see this on his own all of a sudden. How do we tell him this?"

Both Rob and Sara turned to face him, unable to provide an answer to the question. To be honest, they didn't know.

Knowing it would probably be best to tell Morgan before he came in and found out on his own, Rob figured someone would have to go out and tell him. Try and talk to him about it...calmly. If that was at all possible.

"Don't worry about it." Rob said, more to everyone than just Jack. "I'll speak to him. He'll have to understand."

He tried to think of what the best way to tell this to Morgan would be, but he didn't know. He had already been so strict about the other man's possible bite wound earlier. This might put him back into that mindset again, which would not be a good thing for any of them, especially not for Preston.

"I'll talk to Morgan. You all stay here." Rob said, turning around to head for the door. Sara looked at him with swollen eyes as he passed, a nod of understanding passing between them. A nod of thanks to Rob.

"What are you gonna say?" Preston asked. His voice was a little shaky, despite his best attempt to hide his fear. Fear of how Morgan might react, of what Morgan might do, about what comes next.

Rob turned around by the door and looked at Preston, smiling tightly. "I'll worry about Morgan. I wouldn't let him do anything to you though, Preston. I promise you that."

Preston gave the slightest of smiles to Rob, his eyes trailing away. "Okay. Okay."

"Rob?" Jack walked over to him at the door, leaving MJ at the other side of the room for just a moment. "What are you planning on saying to him?"

Rob saw the deep worry in Jack's eyes as he asked. "I really don't know." Rob whispered, making sure that they weren't facing Preston as they spoke.

A frustrated breath escaped Jack. "I'm usually with you, but...what good is it to talk to him without knowing what you're gonna say. I mean, is that really a good idea? This is a bit of a sensitive issue. We don't really know which Morgan is the real Morgan." Jack moved his head in closer, his voice already barely a whisper. "You saw the way he was earlier."

Rob looked around at the others, and then looked over at Preston once more. "I know. I know, but what better option is there?" He looked back to Jack who didn't have an answer for his question. "I just gotta stay calm...Try to keep him calm. Tell him the truth. We didn't know."

"But Preston did." Jack countered.

"I know. But can he blame him for not saying anything? The way Morgan was acting earlier?" Rob shook his head lightly. "I wouldn't say that to the man, obviously, but I can hint at it...that earlier wasn't the best time for Preston to bring it up. He should understand that on his own. But...if it wasn't for Preston," Rob held eye contact with Jack, "Morgan might not be alive right now." He tilted his head, knowing that no one could deny that. He'd use that as a means to make sure Morgan didn't do anything. Because if there was one thing he knew about Morgan already, it was that with that bit of truthful information, he wouldn't be able to do anything rash. Even if he wanted to. That wasn't the man that Morgan was. Rob knew that much. He'd seen it on the man's face when they'd met him.

Rob looked back at Preston, taking a moment to himself as Jack stood beside him thinking over what he had said.

"I'll be back in a minute." Rob placed a hand on Jack's shoulder. "We gotta do this. I gotta do this."

Jack nodded lightly. "Be careful with it. We don't need it blowing up in our faces." He patted Rob on the arm.

"Don't worry, I'll handle it." Rob answered. With that, Jack walked back over to MJ.

Rob glanced back, catching Sara's eye. He smiled lightly at her, and she smiled back, the best that she could manage under the current circumstances.

Rob turned around, taking in a deep breath, and exited through the door, closing it over again behind him. Hopefully, this didn't blow up on them like Jack had mentioned. But as far as they could see – or as far as he could, at least – this was the only way to go about it...the best way. He had to speak with Morgan. He just hoped the man wasn't who they had originally witnessed earlier.

This had to be addressed and Rob still couldn't shake the feeling he had that this was his fault. What happened to Preston. Like he could've prevented it had he done a better job at keeping them all safe, or finding a better way at following the man from the hospital.

He felt responsible, and he wasn't gonna be able to get past that guilt easily, whether or not it was actually his fault. Not anytime soon. Not that he could see.

 ****Author's Note****

 **Hey everyone. To anyone who had enjoyed the previous chapters, liked the story, or followed it, I apologize for not updating it in almost a year. A lot of stuff was going on and I never got back into this until recently. But, I hope to work on it more frequently now as best I can. For the time being, I hope you enjoyed this new chapter. Thank you for reading and I'll try to get more chapters up soon!**


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